Topsy Turvy
by Bob Rhynoplasty
Summary: Sequel to my story "Slaughter House." When Detective DiNozzo screws up and lets a sixteen year old kid get kidnapped, he calls the only person who could help him, Agent Gibbs from NCIS. Now our two heroes have to find the boy before its too late.
1. Prologue

_**Topsy Turvy**_

**Summary:** Tony knew he would see Gibbs again. He just wished it was for a better reason.

**Disclaimer:** The show NCIS belongs to Donald P. Bellisario, Bellisarius television, CBS network and Shane Brennan. I just like to play with them.

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to the story "Slaughter House," if you haven't read that one, then this story will not make any sense whatsoever. Well, it might, but I have OCs that were introduced in Slaughter House, so it might be difficult to keep up with them. If you haven't read Slaughter House, I would suggest turning back, unless you want to read that one, no problems with that, lol. Moreover, since its a sequel, it is also a GEN fic. However there will be relationships of the heterosexual and the homosexual nature. They are NOT part of the main story, so I'm not going to overload you on love, don't worry, I'm just giving you fair warning.

Like my last two long projects, this one is a writing in progress, but I'm currently working on chapter six, so hopefully, I won't make you guys wait too long for updates.

I've said all I've needed to say, except that this prologue is incredibly short. Like really really really really short. The next few chapters are a little longer, but as always, don't expect long chapters from me. Sorry. But now, onward!

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Prologue

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" His father shouted at him. Jamie just rolled his eyes and kept heading for the front door. There was nothing the old bastard could do to stop him.

At least until he grabbed Jamie's arm and yanked him back. The young boy jerked back so he was standing only a foot away from his father. The man was big, bulky with a closely shaved head and deep brown eyes. Jamie had inherited his father's eyes, but everything else he got from his mother.

"You do not leave until I give you permission to leave, do you understand me?" His father was angry and he wasn't afraid to show it.

But Jamie wasn't going to back down. "You can't force me to stay here!"

"You wanna bet?" He started dragging Jamie back towards his bedroom. Jamie tried to struggle, tried to stay as far away from this man as possible, but it wasn't working. He was just too damn strong.

He couldn't stay here, he knew that. He couldn't stay with these people,not after everything that they had done. Not just to him, but the people around him. And he wasn't going to risk his life for for another day. Before they made it to the hallway, he found the picture frame that held a photo of his family on a vacation to the Caribbean. It was one of the few family moments that he actually enjoyed.

Without hesitation, Jamie picked it up and slammed it into his father's head. The man jerked for a second before he fell to the floor in a heap. In the background, Jamie heard his mother scream, but he didn't turn towards her. He was too busy staring down at his father.

He wasn't moving, Jamie couldn't see if he was breathing or not. _No_, he thought. _No, no no no no!_

He didn't wait any longer. He grabbed his bag and ran out the front door.

"Jamie!" His mother called. "Jamie!"

But he didn't stop. He just ran as fast as he could. He had to get away. Off the base, out of the city. He had to get away.

He was so busy running, he didn't see the people slip into his house.

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**Well what did you think? I know that it's short, I told you, but did it at least interest you a little? Maybe, hopefully?**

**Bob**


	2. One

**Ok, I got bored, I fully admit, I was bored, so I decided to update. Few personal comments (If you read my stories, you should be aware that I do this a lot) Two days ago I was extremely depressed when I discovered that the perfect man existed, and he's married to my best friend's cousin. I'm not lying, he's like... perfect. My tire had a bubble in it, and I have now had to replace three out of the four tires on my car at least once (I've had the car for two years).**

**On a brighter note, I went dress shopping with my best friend today. She's getting married in September, and I'm excited, the dress is stunning on her. **

**I forgot to mention this earlier, I've decided that I'm turning this story into a series, I don't know how many, but this will not be the last story in the series. There will at least be three, but probably more.**

**And now I'm done until the end of the story.**

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One

She tasted like peppermint.

That was the first thing Tony DiNozzo noticed when he kissed her. Her breath was fresh and minty. Either she was one of those people who brushed their teeth after every hour, or she just chewed a lot of peppermint gum. Either way, it didn't really matter.

The second thing he noticed was that she was a lousy kisser. She sucked too hard, her tongue was sloppy. What sucked was that she wasn't even all that drunk. A little tipsy, definitely, but so was he. He would hate to know what she was like when she was hammered.

They stumbled up the steps heading towards his apartment. He lost his footing, which sent him flying into the stairs. She laughed like a hyena at him. He cringed as the sound of her voice sent a shiver down his spine, and not in a good way.

"Not one of my finer moments," he tried to joke. Although, this whole encounter was not one of his finer moments. She was definitely a beauty, with long straight brown hair and almond shaped brown eyes. Her lips weren't overly full, but they were colored a deep pink. At first glance, Tony imagined all the things she'd be able to do with that mouth. Now he wasn't really sure he wanted to know.

"It was pitiful." She laughed again. "I didn't know I was that great of a kisser."

_You're really not_. He wanted to say it, but he refrained. Instead he just righted himself and grabbed her for another kiss. He tried to control it as much as possible, but somehow she kept usurping his power.

Tony opened his eyes to lead them up the stairs better. Every once in a while, he made all the necessary noises to make the girl think he was enjoying the kiss. He grabbed her waist to steer her.

At the landing, he pulled away. "Hey!" She protested. Tony didn't even remember getting her name. Not that he really cared to learn it.

She said something else, but he didn't hear it. He gently pushed her away and approached the young boy, leaning against his door with his knees against his chest. The boy couldn't have been older than sixteen. He was passed out, but still looked guarded.

Tony wished he had his gun, but he didn't grab it when he went out clubbing. Bad move, one that he would never make again.

"What are you doing?" The girl hissed at him.

Tony turned around long enough to shush her before moving closer to the boy again. Gently, he grabbed his arm and started to shake. "Hey, kid, wake up."

The boy moaned something incoherently. Tony shook harder. After another moment, the kid's eyes slowly opened. They were a dark brown.

"It's ok, kid," Tony reassured.

At first, it looked like the boy was still barely awake. He looked around, trying to find out where he was. But then, as his eyes started to fully open, he became more coherent. And more frantic.

With a gasp, he tried to run down the stairs that Tony was blocking. Tony grabbed him around the waist and pushed him back. "It's ok! Calm down."

The kid tried running again. Tony's female companion started shrieking. Tony felt his ear drums pop. He opened his eyes again and grabbed the boy's shoulders. "I'm a cop."

That stopped the girl. "You're a cop?" She said disgusted.

Tony turned to her and glared. He didn't know how that really mattered at this point. "Yeah." He added an extra glare to get her to understand that she should shut up.

But she scoffed. "I thought you were a trust fund baby. Ew." She turned on her heel and started walking downstairs again. Tony rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the boy.

"My name is Detective Anthony DiNozzo, I'm a cop with Baltimore P.D. Can you tell me your name?" He kept his voice low, hoping he could convince the kid to trust him.

The boy wouldn't look at him. He focused on his shoes, instead. "Jamie."

Tony nodded. "Ok, Jamie, can you tell me what you're doing in my hallway?"

"It's cold outside."

Tony understood that. It was late April and well past midnight. While the snow had melted and the ice turned to water again, it was still pretty chilly, especially at night. But that wasn't what he meant. "Wouldn't you rather sleep in your own bed?" He looked the kid over. His clothes were pretty dirty, but they still looked like they were good clothes. Name brand. And his shoes weren't cheap either. Either this kid was a great thief or his parents bought him some nice things.

The kid just shook his head in response.

Tony sighed heavily. "Don't you have a home?"

Still the boy was silent.

_Damn_. He wasn't happy about this, but it was his job. Ah well, it wasn't like he was busy anymore. What's-her-name took off. "Alright, come on. Get up." He pulled Jamie to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"The station house."

That sent the boy on a frenzy again. He tried to pull away from the cop's grip. He kept making noises that didn't really make any sense. But Tony kept a good grip on him. "Hey, hey hey! Calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you!"

But Jamie wouldn't listen. Tony groaned. He grabbed Jamie tighter and pulled him in till their faces were only inches apart. "Alright, you are underaged, and you're sleeping in my hallway, you want me to arrest you? Because I can." The young boy's face paled. "Or you can come with me willingly. Which will it be?"

Jamie was still wary about going with Tony, but he eventually caved. He nodded his head, and Tony steered him down towards his car.

"Hey," he said as they were about to climb in. "Sorry, you know, about your date." He looked anywhere but in Tony's eyes.

The older man just chuckled. "Eh, she was a lousy kisser anyway."

Tony didn't climb in the car until he saw Jamie plant his ass on the seat. Then he climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

The trip to the precinct was a quiet one. Jamie looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. Tony noted that he also looked a little scared. It wasn't outright terror like most kids his age should feel when heading up to a police station. Kids like that, the ones who weren't really scared had a reason not to be. They were hardened, too many days on the street, fighting for their lives to care about something so petty. Jamie was still in between. He had been on the street long enough to not be quaking in fear at the mere sight of a cop, but he hadn't been alone long enough to fully wipe away the emotion. There should still be hope for the boy.

As they neared the house, he pulled out his cell phone. Tony wasn't really good with talking with kids. But his partner had five younger siblings, he was a champion at sympathetic and caring.

**.**

Dennis Morgan did not want to wake up. He was content and warm and damn it, it had been too long since he felt this good. But his phone was ringing, and there was no way he could get away with not answering his phone. He was a cop, and if his phone rang, there was a good chance that he was needed at a crime scene.

His companion shifted so he was completely sprawled on top of the younger man. Dennis grunted. "That's mine."

"Well whoever it is, tell them to go away." He collapsed, still completely covering Dennis.

Dennis chuckled as he grabbed his phone. It was a difficult task to be sure. Half of his body was stuck underneath his companion's, which made it damn near impossible to shift. After some serious finagling, he managed to wrap his fingers around the device. He flipped it open and held it to his ear without bothering to check the caller I.D. "Morgan."

"Den, it's Tony."

Dennis' heart skipped a beat. He looked at his chest, his companion looked like he was passed out again, which was definitely a good thing. But he was snoring. And he didn't exactly sound very feminine when he snored.

"What's up?" He tried to pull his body out from underneath his friend's without waking him.

"I'm heading back into the office, I want you to meet me there."

Dennis stopped moving. "It's my day off, Tony." It was the only one they'd had in three weeks. First there was endless piles of paperwork that they had to catch up on, then they had case after case after case. It wasn't until six o clock yesterday that they managed to find their latest killer. That was a rough case, and Dennis just wanted to relax and not get out of bed until Monday morning.

"I found a teenage kid in the hallway outside my apartment." Dennis paused. Tony always knew how to guilt him. "I need your help talking to him."

Dennis sighed. "Alright fine, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You're the best, Den."

"Yeah, I know." He hung up. He groaned, loud and deep in his gut.

His friend shifted so he was looking at Dennis. "What's wrong?"

"I got a case."

His companion finally crawled off of him. "Why can't somebody else take it, your captain gave you the weekend off."

"It wasn't my captain that gave us the case." Dennis sat up and leaned against the headboard. The blanket fell to his waist, revealing his bare chest. "It was Tony." He relayed the short conversation he had on the phone.

His companion ran a hand down his face. He looked as tired as Dennis felt. "Why couldn't you have just told him no?"

Dennis didn't like how angry he sounded. "Because he's my partner."

"Yeah." He jumped out of bed and started grabbing his clothes where he tossed them.

Dennis was still really confused. "Stan," he started, before Stan cut him off.

"If you're not gonna be here, then there's no point in me being here either, is there?" He pulled his boxers up over his hips.

"I'm coming back!"

"Right," He pulled on his jeans next, "when he says it's ok." Stan ran a hand through his short blonde hair. Then, grabbing his shirt, he stormed out the door. Seconds later, Dennis heard the front door slam shut.

He sighed heavily. It was happening again. It always happened. He would find somebody he really liked, and everything would start off great. But then the jealousy and resentment would start to form. He had a rough job, he worked long hours, and he was close with his partner. After a while, nobody was able to handle that.

He had hoped that Stan would be different. He was a cop too, and his boss was a total bastard, but Stan practically worshipped the ground that he walked on. If anyone could understand what Dennis did, it would be Stan. But apparently he was wrong.

It wouldn't be the first time.

He wiped his hand down his face and finally crawled out of bed. He needed a quick shower before he left. His body hurt. Well actually, his lower body hurt. Although a few spots on his torso hurt too. He figured he'd have a few bruises in the morning. He hoped that Tony would never see those.

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**Well, I told you guys that there would be heterosexual as well as homosexual relationships in this story, and you got a look at both! And before you start to complain, no Dennis' love life is not a main focus on the story, there will be comments, but consider it more of the runner, it's there, you know its there, but it pops up only every couple of chapters for a few minutes.**

**And I just wanted to say that the idea of this story came from a true event. My friend found a teenage boy sleeping in the hallway outside of her apartment a few months ago. He ran away from home and when my mother called the cops, three cars showed up to haul the kid off. Jamie's sort of based off that kid.**

**Well, hope you enjoyed, and as usual, talk to me!**

**Bob**


	3. Two

**Here we are people! Chapter 2, I hope you like it... I really have nothing else to say. I can't think of anything. That's definitely a first. Really, feel good, I'm not going to bore you for how long with my words! I'll shut up now.**

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Two

_I will not kill this kid, I will not kill this kid._ Tony kept up the mental chant as long as his headache would allow. "Do you even have a last name?"

Ever since he brought Jamie into the station house, he had been giving the cop the silent treatment. He wasn't exactly talkative before, but now he was just being petulant. And it was pissing Tony off.

"Would you rather I fingerprint you? 'Cause I gotta tell you that's gonna take a while. You'd have to stay here. I can't let you stay in the crib, I'd have to lock you up." He looked over at the cage at the edge of the squad room. There was one guy in there. It wasn't their latest killer, he had already been taken away. But he was big and slimy. "And you look like Bubba's type." Tony had no idea what the guy's name was, or his nickname for that matter.

Jamie didn't budge. He just kept looking down at his sneakers, pealing the rubber off the soles. Tony sighed heavily. "Alright." He grabbed a small jar of ink and a fingerprint slip. "Hold out your left hand."

He wasn't surprised when Jamie ignored him. _I will not kill this kid_. "Either you can cooperate, or I can force you. Your choice." He kept his voice low, with a hard tint to it. It came out extra gravelly.

Jamie finally looked up to meet his eyes. He was sneering. But, he pulled his hand away from his shoe, dipped his left thumb into the ink and rolled it across the paper. He did it with everyone of his five fingers before shoving his hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

Tony felt smug. He just bullied a teenage homeless kid, but he still felt smug about it.

He took the slip to scan it through the databases. Hopefully, he'd eventually find the kid. He turned to head back to his desk when he saw his partner stride into the bullpen. He was crisp and clean and his hair was wet. Tony felt a pang of jealousy. His over expensive clothes were rumpled and he smelled like beer. He would have loved to be able to take a shower. Maybe brush his teeth. Wipe the taste of peppermint out of his mouth.

"Den!" He called. Denny looked towards him a second before he started moving. "Thanks for coming."

"What's up?" He kept his voice low, though why, Tony couldn't be sure.

"I was coming home with a date when I saw Jamie Doe asleep in my hallway."

"Jamie Doe?"

Tony shrugged. "Wouldn't give me his last name. Ended up having to take his fingerprints."

Denny chuckled. Tony was not in the mood for humor. He was tired and he lost the chance to get laid tonight. Granted the woman was good looks and nothing else, he was still looking forward to ripping her clothes off and banging her until she couldn't move for a week.

She was just one in a string of girls that came—literally—and went through his revolving bedroom door. Although he was a little picky at the moment. He refused to sleep with a woman with blue eyes or light brown hair. And he liked them on the tall side. When he was with these women, he was in complete control. Everything he did drove them crazy, made them beg for more. He was starting to really get off on the power trip.

"Talk to him. Find out where the hell he comes from and what he was doing in my hallway," his voice came out harsh and angry. He saw a flash of hurt run through Denny's eyes. It almost made him feel guilty. Denny was his best friend. He'd say he was like a brother to him, except they were closer than that. Denny had two brothers—half brothers—but he was closer with Tony than he was with either of them. Tony didn't like yelling at him, he didn't like arguing with him period. But these days, he just couldn't really care anymore.

The hurt left his partner's eyes, to be replaced with anger. "What makes you think he'll talk to me?"

"Because you're a big brother, you know how to talk to kids." He made a shooing motion. "Go talk, bond, mingle. Be caring." He pushed Denny towards his desk where Jamie was still waiting, still in a foul mood.

Denny sat down in Tony's chair so he could be on Jamie's level. With a roll of his head, Tony stepped back and leaned on another cop's desk with his arms folded over his chest.

"Hey, Jamie, right?" Denny started, already going into sympathetic mode. "I'm Detective Dennis Morgan. Can you tell me how old you are?"

Jamie didn't say anything. Tony's already short patience was breaking with every second with this kid.

Denny leaned back and crossed his hands behind his back. He looked at the boy with his cocky grin. It was the grin that typically got him in trouble. "Alright, don't talk. I really don't care." He dropped his head back and shut his eyes. "Just so you know, the longer you go without talking to us, the longer you're stuck in our company." Still, the boy was silent. Denny turned to Tony. "How was your date?"

Tony shrugged. "The kid interrupted."

"Ouch," the older of the two cringed.

"Not really, she was a lousy kisser."

"So why'd you bring her home?"

"She had a nice ass."

"You ever heard the word shameless?"

"You ever heard me not caring?"

Denny laughed. He opened his mouth to respond when somebody else spoke. "Detective DiNozzo?" It was a woman, a heavy set dark skinned woman wearing a long trench coat. Her black hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head.

Tony raised his hand. "Over here."

She crossed the room and held out her hand. "Gloria Smith. I'm with Social Services." Her badge was displayed proudly on the front of her trench coat. It looked legit.

Tony's forehead creased in confusion. "Well that's convenient, because I never called social services."

"No, but your captain did." Tony looked towards Carnec's office. He hadn't even spoken to his boss yet about the boy. He didn't even think that Carnec was in. Papers were thrust into his hand. "Everything is all set. I've been given permission to take the boy into my custody and put him into a group home for the evening."

"He doesn't even have a name yet."

"Many of our children don't have full names detective. But it's late, and I don't think that Jamie wants to stay the night in a police precinct."

Denny stood up, his anger was rising. "You can't do this."

"And you can't keep him." She turned away from the two cops towards the boy. "Jamie?" She said with a smile. "I'm Mrs. Smith. Would you like to come with me?" She sounded like she was talking to a baby.

Jamie looked into her brown eyes, his face completely void of emotion. "No."

Tony had to hide the smile that spread across his face. Mrs. Smith's own smile fell. She turned to Tony with a glare. "Once Jamie has had a decent night sleep, I will personally bring him back in the morning."

Tony didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. A woman showed up out of nowhere, claiming to be social services and demanding to take the kid. True, he really didn't have a lot to hold the kid with, by all rights, this was a social services matter, but it didn't mean he liked it.

He turned on his brightest smile. It was the one that always got him out of the trouble that Denny's grin put him into. "Give me one second." He turned on his heel and headed for his captain's office.

He didn't bother knocking. He just stepped over the threshold like it was nothing. Sure enough, Carnec behind his desk, apparently engrossed in whatever was on his desk. He didn't bother looking up. "Social Services show up yet?"

"So you did call them." Tony shut the door quietly, even though he wanted nothing more than to slam it shut.

"You brought an underaged boy into the precinct, that's generally social services' area."

"How do you know he wasn't a killer, or a witness to a murder?"

Carnec finally looked up. What little gray hair that he had was sticking up in several different directions. He also decided a few weeks ago that he was going to grow out a mustache. It too, was completely gray. "If he were, you would have come to me first thing."

"The kid was sleeping in the hallway of my apartment building."

"Which means that he should be in Social Services' custody," Carnec repeated.

But Tony still wasn't listening. "I'm a little curious about why he was there in the first place."

"Hand it over to missing persons."

"The kid's not missing."

"Apparently, he is. If he wasn't, he'd be in his own bed instead of pissing off you and your partner."

"Cap—"

Carnec cut him off. "This is not a homicide case, DiNozzo. He's probably a run away, in which case, I don't need my two best detectives wasting their time trying to find his parents when they could be doing something useful."

"You gave us the weekend off."

"Then get the hell off my clock and stop wasting the city money." It was said jokingly, but Tony still wanted to slug the man.

He honestly liked Carnec. He was understanding, and he was the reason that Tony and Denny were detectives. He jumped through hoops for them.

A little over a year ago, the two of them were involved in a hostage situation. A man named Neil Ellerbe lost everything he had when he was wrongfully accused of rape and murder. His wife left him and took his young daughter with her. Neil turned to drugs. One day, high as a kite, he went over to his ex wife's house to beg her to come back. The two argued, and he bashed her head in. Tony and Denny were still only uniformed officers at the time, but when Neil was first arrested, they were the only ones who believed that he was innocent. So when everything went down, the only person Neil was willing to talk to was Tony. After three hours trying to convince Neil to come out of the house, Tony finally coaxed him out.

Only a minute later, Tony was putting a bullet through his eye. It was something that's haunted him ever since, but it was also the kind of thing that careers are built on. His first hostage situation, and he handled it calmly and effectively, and when the time came, Tony was able to take out his gun and shoot the man. And Captain Carnec wouldn't shut up until Tony and Denny were made detectives and assigned to his unit. A feat in and of itself, considering Tony was only twenty-eight and Denny was twenty-nine.

"Cap, you can't ask me to just—"

Again, Carnec cut him off. "I'm not asking anything, detective. I'm telling you. Go home, get some sleep. Forget about this kid." He sighed heavily. "Let social services do their jobs."

Tony sighed heavily. "This is bull, and you damn well know it." Before Carnec could yell at him for being insubordinate, he stormed out of the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Gloria Smith was still there. And she looked smug. She knew that she won. Tony decided that he hated that woman. Passionately.

Tony didn't say anything. But his silence was all the answer the woman needed. "I'm glad we could get this all straightened up, detective." She said far too proud of herself. She turned back to Jamie again. "Come along, Jamie."

The boy stood up. The kid had barely said a word all night, he pissed both Tony and Denny off multiple times, but when he looked at Tony now, he wasn't blank. He was pleading with his eyes. The cop wished he could do something. Anything to help the boy out. But his hands were bound.

Mrs. Smith ushered Jamie out of the bullpen. His eyes stayed glued to Tony until he was completely out of sight.

He felt like crap. He wanted to help the kid, and he failed. Denny turned to him, anger flashing before his face. "You call me out of bed to help you with this kid, and then you let that bitch just walk away with him?"

"It was out of my hands!" He didn't like it any better than Denny did, but he didn't have a choice. Neither of them did. "Captain's orders."

"What about the kid? He probably has family out there!"

"Carnec said to hand the case over to Missing persons'."

Denny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, they're really gonna care about Jamie. He's already been found, the only thing they need to do is see who he belongs to."

He had a point. Missing Persons were trying to find people that nobody could find. They would be their first priority. In the meantime, a kid like Jamie would be stuck in a group home for who knows how long while they cleared their schedule. Jamie could turn eighteen before they found his family.

Something on Tony's computer pinged. He looked down at his monitor as the words 'Positive Match' flashed across the screen. "Well that was fast." He almost forgot that he ran Jamie's prints.

Denny wheeled away to give him better access. He groaned. "Well that will make things easy for Missing Persons."

Tony clicked the flashing message with his mouse, bringing up… _Holy shit_.

"This isn't good."

Denny leaned forward, suddenly curious. "What's up?"

"Jamie Taylor," Tony read aloud. "Age sixteen. He went missing four months ago." This definitely wasn't good. "He's wanted in connection with the murder of Marine dependent," he paused. This couldn't be true.

"Tony!" Denny yelled, trying to get his partner's attention.

Tony turned to face him. His face showed how bad this was. "Marine dependent Karen Taylor and the attempted murder of Sergeant Philip Taylor. This kid attacked his parents."

Denny's jaw dropped as he absorbed what he was told. "And we just handed him off to Social Services?"

"Call back Gloria Smith, tell her to bring Jamie back here, now!" He jumped to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. This was no longer a missing persons' case. This was a homicide. That made it his jurisdiction. And while it was a bit messed up, he was looking forward to shoving that in Carnec's and Smith's faces.

"Detective DiNozzo?"

He wheeled around at his name call. Standing a few feet away from him was a woman, mid forties maybe. She was thin, thick dark, curly hair with light brown eyes that matched her skin tone. For an older woman, she was pretty cute.

"Yeah, can I help you?"

"I'm Maria Rodriguez, I'm with Social Services. Captain Carnec called me about a teenage John Doe?"

Tony turned back to his partner. Denny slowly rose to his feet, his eyes glued to the woman in front of him.

"Social Services already came for him."

That confused the woman. "That's not possible, Captain Carnec called me personally."

Tony never felt so stupid in his life. You could never get a social worker out at this time of night without an emergency. Finding a teenage punk asleep in a hallway definitely did not qualify as an emergency. He should have known that something was up with that woman.

Denny was the first to speak. "If you're here for Jamie, then who was the woman who took him?"

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**Next chapter, I swear there will be Gibbs. Fear not. Well, what do you think? Does it intrigue? I would like to point out my knowledge of police matters is very limited, so I'm taking a few creative liberties. I hope you enjoyed, and once again, talk to me!**

**Bob**


	4. Three

**Ok, I just want to make one comment clear, this story is not slash, it is a gen fic. I personally would love nothing more than to turn this story slash, but Tony is not going to end up with either Gibbs or Denny. I am sorry to all slash fans, but I am most likely going to throw in some innuendos around here and there, but they will generally be small. I am sorry again. **

**I have been rather depressed lately. Every day I seem to be turning more and more into a girl. I got teary eyed over Mamma Mia!, giddy over wedding dress shopping, and just all around become... feminine. There's something seriously wrong with me, I need help. **

**Hey, guess what. It's the first appearance of Gibbs! I would like to point out before you read this that the timing of the story jumps a bit. I wanted to write about Gibbs right away, but Tony and Denny's section is a couple hours behind. This is the only chapter that I do that with, I hope it isn't too confusing.**

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Three

It had been a bad night. It was the last night that Leroy Jethro Gibbs ever agreed to go out on the town with his best friend. Getting dragged to a play with a guy was bad enough. He almost slugged the tenth person who asked how long he and Ducky had been together. That was bad. But then, running into his ex-wife, that had made the evening a catastrophe. Stephanie was different than his first two ex-wives. They couldn't get away from him fast enough. Stephanie? Well, she wanted the divorce. She came to him right after he got out of work and said it. But afterwards, she wouldn't leave him alone. She practically turned into a stalker. The first anniversary after the divorce, she decided to get drunk and call him incessantly. The only time he picked up, she sobbed into his ear about why he didn't try and fight for her. Why was he so willing to just let her leave? Didn't he ever love her? He hung up and tossed his phone in paint thinner.

He was never accepting another offer to go to a play with Ducky again.

He tipped his head back and finished off his coffee. It was his third so far, and he hadn't even gotten to his floor yet. He was smart, and bought a few when he was still standing in the coffee shop and finishing off his first cup. He still had three more, and those would be lucky to last him until 0800. It was currently 0655.

The elevator finally opened on his floor. He stepped out and headed straight for his desk. He ignored the empty desk across from him. That was why he had accepted Ducky's offer. He pushed away yet another agent.

Agent Brent Langer, young, promising, but new and green, handed in his resignation letter last night before the day ended. Apparently, he had gotten a better job at the FBI. That was his excuse anyways. Truth was, he got sick of Jethro. They all did at some point. He wasn't surprised. He knew that Brent wouldn't stick around for long. He was a sweet kid. That was the problem. A guy like Brent just couldn't put up with a guy like Jethro for that long.

So that left Jethro with Stan, all alone again. Not much of a surprise there. In all the years they had been working together, somehow it always went back to Jethro and Stan.

He sat down at his desk and looked over at his Senior Field Agent's desk. It was still empty. Why was it… Oh yeah. Stan had taken the week off to spend with his new girlfriend. Jethro smiled inwardly. If they got a case, there was no way in hell he'd be working it alone. He was actually looking forward to messing up Stan's romantic weekend.

His phone rang. His smile grew. "Yeah, Gibbs," he said into the receiver.

"Jethro," that was the director's voice. "I need to see you up in MTAC."

Interesting. What could Morrow want to talk about?

Jethro hung up and went upstairs to the Multiple Threat Assessment Center. He normally found Morrow up there.

Director Morrow was an older fellow with thinning white hair. He was built strong. He wasn't always a bureaucrat, but he made a damn fine one. He handled people in power much better than Jethro could ever hope to. Not that he really wanted to handle people in power. That was what the director was for.

He walked into the dimly lit room and found Morrow almost immediately. It helped that he was the only one in the room, save for the MTAC Control Officers. But they never really left. He sat down next to the older man, never once actually looking at him.

"You wanted to see me, director?"

Out of his peripherals, he could see Morrow nod. "I just got a call from Captain Carnec from Baltimore P.D."

Jethro knew he heard that name before. He just couldn't place it. "They got a dead sailor or something?"

"One of his detectives found Jamie Taylor."

The agent tensed. He had been looking for that boy for months now. Neighbors heard him arguing with his parents the night before they had been found. Karen Taylor, the boy's mother had been strangled to death. Sergeant Taylor was still in a coma, even after four months. Blunt force trauma to the head. All evidence pointed to Jamie Taylor, and the fact that he fled just made him look all the more guilty.

"You want me to go pick him up?"

Morrow chuckled. "That'd be nice. But right after they found him, they lost him again."

Jethro rolled his eyes. "What kind of incompetent schmuck let him get away?"

Morrow finally turned to look at him. There was a twinkle in his eye. "Detective Anthony DiNozzo."

Jethro's jaw dropped.

He knew that name. He knew that name well. From what he had seen, he was a good cop. Hell, he was a great cop. And he saved Jethro's life.

The last time they met was three months ago in the middle of February. Jethro and his team headed up to Baltimore to work with the locals on a quadruple homicide. One of the victims was a Marine Corporal. Detective DiNozzo gave him crap about taking over the case. Eventually they just agreed to work together. Things had gone south from there.

But Jethro enjoyed working with the young man. And he was young. He wasn't even thirty when they met. But after only a few days working together, and DiNozzo already knew how Jethro worked, how he moved. He followed his lead when the time was right and stood up to him when Jethro got pigheaded. It took Stan years to get to that. Even now they didn't move with the same unity.

So just how in the hell did the kid screw up so bad?

He asked Morrow the exact same thing and waited for the answer.

The director sighed. "Taylor wouldn't give Detective DiNozzo anything, so he took fingerprints and waited for the reports. While he was waiting, Child Services showed up."

"He fled Child Services?"

Morrow shook his head. The story he then relayed to Jethro wasn't a good one. The social worker turned out to be a fake. She kidnapped Taylor. "Any ideas who would want to kidnap him?"

Jethro shook his head. "Not yet." But he was damn sure that he would find out.

Morrow nodded. "You'll be working with Baltimore P.D. on this one, Jethro. And no arguing. Detective DiNozzo was adamant—"

"Ok," Jethro cut him off.

The director looked at him, completely stunned. He didn't expect Jethro to give in so easily. It was understandable, he hated joint operations, especially with locals. Normally he did everything in his power to avoid them. And he here was now, agreeing. Without any sort of coaxing.

He stood up to leave.

"You offer him a job, Jethro?" Morrow called after him. Jethro turned around to see the grin on his director's face. "Now that you're down an agent."

"I did."

"And?"

Jethro started walking again. "He turned me down." He left the room before Morrow could say anything else.

That was true. After what happened between the two of them, he decided he wanted the young man on his team. But when he offered, DiNozzo declined.

Because he didn't want to leave his partner.

Absolutely pathetic, in Jethro's opinion. He personally couldn't stand Detective Morgan. He thought he was annoying, with too much attitude and too short of a fuse. The first time Jethro and his team met the two Baltimore cops, Morgan pulled his gun and threatened to shoot Jethro because he wanted the case. Things didn't get better between them.

But DiNozzo adored his partner. Best friends and other nauseating things. And he was too damn stubborn to leave without him.

Jethro grabbed the keys to his sedan off his desk and jogged to the elevator.

Maybe this time, he could get DiNozzo to change his mind.

**.**

Tony was still pacing. He had been pacing for the last half an hour. He was wearing the floor down with all his pacing.

Dennis' eyes just followed him. Tony had informed Carnec about the Social Services screw up. Carnec then proceeded to ream him out for a good twenty minutes. After the younger man was dismissed, the captain got on the phone and made a call. To who, Dennis didn't know. But if he had to guess, it would be NCIS. Taylor was a Marine dependent. His disappearance and the attack on his parents definitely constituted NCIS jurisdiction.

Dennis was worried, and furious that they let the boy get kidnapped and they didn't do a damn thing to stop it. And worse, he knew that NCIS was going to try and take the investigation away from them. And he didn't want to let it go. This was _their _mistake, they should have the right to fix it.

Carnec finally came out of his office. Tony finally stopped pacing.

Carnec nodded at the two of them. "Director Morrow is going to send the lead agent here when he gets in." Dennis looked down at his watch. It was almost five in the morning. Meaning they still had a few hours to wait before they even heard from the agent. "He's taking lead on this one."

"Cap—" Tony tried to argue before Carnec cut him off.

"If you two hadn't screwed up, then we wouldn't be in this position, Detective. Get your head out of your ass." Tony sighed heavily, but kept his mouth shut and let Carnec rip him a new one. Again. "You will follow every order that he gives you. He tells you to dumpster dive behind a Kentucky Fried Chicken, you better come back here smelling like old chicken and coleslaw. He says to lick the shit off his boots, I expect that boot be squeaky clean. Is that clear, detective?"

Tony ground his teeth together. "Crystal."

"Crystal what?"

"Sir."

Carnec nodded. "I want you to head over to Social Services. See if any of them have ever heard of Gloria Smith over there."

Tony nodded. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. Dennis stood to follow before Carnec stopped him. "Detective Morgan, I want you to stay back here and run a background check on Mrs. Smith."

Dennis' jaw dropped.

But Tony was the one who spoke first. "Cap—"

Again, Carnec cut him off. "You have a problem handling a simple interview, Detective?"

Dennis saw a vein pulse in Tony's temple. Again, he ground his teeth together. "No sir."

Carnec nodded. "Good." With that, he turned and headed back into his office, slamming the door as he went.

Tony looked like he was barely controlling his temper. Dennis could understand that. It wasn't just Tony's fault for this screw up. It was everyone's fault. The guys downstairs let Gloria Smith in the building, Tony and Dennis didn't question her, and Carnec gave the ok for them to leave. But Tony was the one bearing all the blame. And that just wasn't fair.

"Tony," he started before Tony cut him off.

"You heard the Captain. Get to work." He strode out of the bullpen without ever looking back at Dennis.

Dennis sighed heavily. It wasn't like his day hadn't been bad enough.

Things had changed with Tony, and he didn't know why or how. He just knew that they did. Ever since they worked that case with NCIS, the younger man had been moody, he lost his temper over everything. He even started sleeping around a lot more. Dennis was used to Tony screwing anything in a skirt—the second Dennis' half sister turned eighteen, she found herself in Tony's bed—but it was never this bad.

Tony smelled like beer when he first arrived. He was working even after he had been drinking. That was never a good sign. Ever.

But Tony wouldn't talk to him. Something went down in that butcher shop with Agent Gibbs, and Dennis was completely in the dark. He didn't like it.

With a heavy sigh, he booted up his computer to do the background check on Gloria Smith.

* * *

**To all of you who read Slaughter House, you know why Tony and Gibbs are bothered by their last case, there really isn't anything new to work towards, but this does have some hurt/comfort drama going on that you wanted with the last story. It just took them a little bit of time. Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	5. Four

**Ok, well I'm going out of town tomorrow and as such, I will have no access to the internet. Seriously, no internet until Monday night. So this might very well be the dumbest thing that a person can do, but I decided to post the next chapter so you guys have something to read.**

**Just a head's up, I just finished up chapter seven, and I promise that I will continue to work on the story while I'm out. **

**Well here it is, the first meeting between Gibbs and Tony! Hope it is to your liking. I'm sorry it took so long. Well, here you go!**

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Four

Tony practically stomped into the Social Services building. It was still incredibly early, only a little after five a.m. Still there were a few social workers lurking around. His initial plan was to go to the first person he saw. But the first person he saw turned out to be an incredibly gorgeous woman.

With light brown hair and blue eyes.

She smiled at him flirtatiously. Tony took a second to get over the shock—she looked very familiar to him—and went to sit with the creepy looking guy with the euro-trash ponytail. The man jumped as Tony sat on the edge of his desk.

"Wha-wha-wha…" he stuttered out.

Tony took his sweet old time pulling out his badge and showing it to him. "Detective Anthony DiNozzo, Baltimore Homicide."

That stopped the man's stuttering, now he just looked worried. "Is one of my kids dead? Did something happen? Why didn't anybody call me?" That last sentence was said with anger.

Tony ignored it all. "How much do you know about your coworkers?"

The man's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand."

Tony rolled his eyes. "As far as I know, your kids are safe. That's not why I'm here. So…" He trailed off, hoping that Euro-trash would get the hint.

Still, he stuttered out his answer. "I know them pretty well. Some I know better than others."

"Do you know a woman named Gloria Smith?"

"Gloria?"

Tony was ready to smack him. "Yeah, Gloria Smith, like I just said. Heavy set black woman, kind of on the smug side."

"Of course I know Gloria."

"How well?"

"Well enough to be at her funeral last month."

Tony almost groaned. Things could never be easy, could they? No, of course not. "You know how she died?"

Euro-trash nodded. "Car accident. Her car was run off the road by a semi." _Of course it was._ "She was killed instantly."

Tony nodded. "I'm going to need to talk to your boss. Need to confirm what you just told me. He in?"

"Not yet. It's five in the morning detective," he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He was lucky Tony was a patient man, otherwise he would have gotten slugged already.

The detective pulled out a card and handed it over. "When he gets in, make sure he calls me. If you think of anything, you call me. Ok?" Euro-trash nodded. Tony gave him more of a head bob before he hopped off the man's desk and started heading for the exit.

He just made it through the doorway when someone called out to him.

Turning around, he saw the pretty brunette. She was small, only five-four. Tony's chest started aching. "Can I help you?"

She nodded. "I'm Celia. I was friends with Gloria." Damn.

He stepped closer to her. "What can you tell me about her?"

"She was a good woman. A good social worker. She loved every kid she saw. She was a bit of a hard ass when she needed to be, but," Celia stopped as she blinked back the tears. "But she was still a good person."

"What was she like on the job?"

Celia chuckled. "Overworked, just like the rest of us. But it never seemed to faze her. We're only supposed to have twenty cases at a time, but we usually have forty. Most of us have a hard time handling it." She shook her head, wiping her eyes. "But not Gloria. She never gave up on those kids. Ever."

Tony wiped a hand over his face. That didn't sound like the woman he met tonight. Working with so many kids, all from different backgrounds, Gloria Smith should have known how to handle a boy like Jamie Taylor. The woman Tony met was cocky and arrogant, but tried to baby the boy. "Do you have a picture of her?"

Celia nodded. She led him back to her desk and picked up a framed photograph. "This was taken at last year's Christmas Party." She wrapped her arms around herself after Tony took it from her.

It was a picture of two women. There was a huge difference between the two. Celia barely came up to Gloria's shoulder. She was pale, and petite in every possible way. She was also young, no older than thirty. Whereas Gloria was tall, almost six feet, at least, and very heavy. At least two hundred pounds. Her skin was deep brown. At one point she most likely had beautiful skin, but age and stress had dried it out, giving her a leathery look. Her eyes were as deep as her skin, but they glistened with the soul of a woman half her age.

That wasn't the woman Tony met tonight.

"Do you know if Gloria had any siblings?"

Celia shook her head. "Two brothers. Why?"

Tony gave her a reassuring smile. "Just wondering." He put the photo back down. "Thank you for your time, ma'am."

Celia nodded. She was no longer flirting, something that Tony was grateful for. She was striking, and sweet, but Tony wanted nothing more than to get out of her company and fast.

He all but ran out of the building and headed towards his car.

Sitting behind the wheel, he rested his head against the window with his eyes closed. Images of what happened back in February flashed in front of him. Every minute detail, he couldn't get away from it.

"Damn it!" He swore as he slammed his head against the glass. It didn't do a damn thing to help his mood. All it did was give him a headache.

He pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial one. It rang three times before anyone picked up. "Morgan."

"Den, it's Tony."

"Hey, I was just about to call you, Gloria Smith—"

Tony cut him off. "Died in a car crash last month, yeah I know. Somebody stole her identity." He relayed his conversation with Celia. "That woman who showed up last night wasn't Gloria Smith. They didn't even look alike."

"I'll go meet with a sketch artist, get a BOLO out on her."

"You're the man, Den."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Tony hung up. His stomach growled. With everything that's happened, he wasn't able to get anything to eat yet. He checked his watch. It was five thirty. He still had a few more hours before the NCIS agent made it to the precinct. He could stop by for a little breakfast first.

He started his car and headed towards McDonald's.

**.**

Jethro walked into the squad room, holding a new cup of coffee in his hands. He finished off the ones he bought that morning, so he had to stop and get one on his way. The place was busy and moving by the time he made it over to the right set of desks. Detective Morgan was sitting there, staring blankly at his screen.

Jethro smiled as he plopped down on the edge of his desk. He was kind of hoping the young cop would jump out of his skin. He didn't. He just turned his head, his eyes still blank, to the agent. Morgan blinked a couple of times trying to get his bearings.

His eyesight finally cleared. Now he looked up at Jethro with a look of shock and horror on his face. "Oh you have got to be kidding me."

Jethro's smile brightened. "Detective Morgan."

He and Morgan didn't get along. Actually they pretty much hated each other. When Jethro first met DiNozzo he didn't really like him, but he respected him. Morgan was the complete opposite. There was nothing respectable about him. He was childish, he whined. Within five minutes of meeting, Morgan pulled out his weapon and threatened Jethro to get out of his crime scene. Jethro was grateful he didn't have to spend a lot of time around him.

Although he kind of felt bad about sticking him with Stan. But that only lasted a few minutes.

"You're the agent on the Taylor case?"

Jethro nodded. "Uh huh."

Morgan smiled. "Shoot me."

"Where's your partner?"

"Up in the crib."

That annoyed the agent. "A kid was kidnapped on your watch, and he's sleeping?"

"He barely slept in over a week, give him a break. You wanna annoy him, go wake him up." He turned back to his desk. Jethro rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.

He stood up and headed upstairs. He had a vague idea about where the 'crib' was, although he had no idea why it was called that, or why they even needed one. When his agents had to stay late, they just slept at their desks. Why couldn't Baltimore P.D.?

He opened a door and saw two long rows of bunk beds, covered in a blanket of darkness. From what he could see, the beds were empty, except one. He could definitely hear snoring coming from that bed.

He took a drink of his coffee and headed over to the proper bunk. Sure enough, it was DiNozzo. He was lying on his chest, his arms dangling off the side of the bed, at an angle. His head wasn't even touching pillow.

Jethro shook his head as he sat down across from the young man. And he was young. Only twenty nine years old. He was a baby. But he had already been through hell.

Jethro kicked the bed.

"DiNozzo!" He yelled.

DiNozzo yelped as he jumped to his feet, and hit his head on the bed above him. He yelped again, only this time in pain. Jethro just watched on in amusement. That was fun. Even though he respected the young cop, he had absolutely no problem knocking him around whenever he could.

The young man's eyes finally cleared. "Gibbs?"

"Good, you remember me." Not that there was any doubt about that. Until the day he died, Jethro would never forget Tony DiNozzo. They had too much history together.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you."

It took another minute for DiNozzo's mind to start working again before he could put the pieces together. "You're the lead agent on the Taylor case?"

"Yup."

DiNozzo chuckled bitterly. "Great, just great." He finally plopped back down on the bed. Seconds later, his head hit the pillow. His eyes were shut, but he looked completely awake.

"You got a problem with that?"

"You mean other than I now have to listen to your every whim?" He opened his eyes and looked over at Jethro. "Captain's orders. He's mad at me."

"Because you let a murderer walk out of here?"

"I didn't _let_ Jamie do anything. A social worker showed up saying she was here to take the boy, I went to argue about it with my Captain, he told me to hand the kid over and let Missing Persons' take the case. I tried to keep him here."

Jethro's brow furrowed. "Director Morrow told me that you screwed up."

DiNozzo rolled his eyes. "I did. But I wasn't the only one. Although if you hear Carnec tell it, he wasn't involved at all, I just let the kidnapper in with a gun to the boy's head and just let him leave."

Jethro took a moment to feel guilty. He had fully believed that Tony was completely at fault for this mess. He should have known better. DiNozzo was young, but he was a damn fine investigator. That was precisely why Jethro had offered him a job two months ago. He wanted the young man on his team. He needed somebody as capable as DiNozzo.

"So what do you know so far?"

DiNozzo sighed heavily and placed his hands under his head. "Jamie Taylor, age sixteen, was found last night—this morning, whatever—outside my apartment. I brought him in, ran his fingerprints, a fake social worker showed up and took him away."

"A fake social worker?"

DiNozzo nodded. "The real Gloria Smith was killed in a car accident a month ago. The two women look similar, but they're definitely not the same. We got a BOLO already out on the fake. So," he slapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Now what, _boss_?"

Jethro smirked. "What, now I gotta think of everything?"

"According to my captain, you do."

Jethro rolled his eyes. Nothing changed. It had been two months since he last saw the younger man, but nothing had changed between them. He was still the same DiNozzo. Jethro was very grateful for that. There were times when he was haunted by what went down back in February. He felt like a failure, because he couldn't save DiNozzo when it mattered.

He always feared how the young man was handling things. He had said that he was ok, but Jethro never really believed him. How is someone really 'ok' after something like that? But here the young man was, acting the way he always did.

"Most likely, Jamie killed his mother and attacked his father."

DiNozzo nodded. "I did read that part of the report."

"So who would want to kidnap him?"

"And why?"

They were silent as they each tried to figure out the answer to that question. One of Jethro's biggest fears was that one of Sergeant Taylor's Marine buddies kidnapped the kid out of revenge. If that was the case, he probably didn't have that long to live.

"Feel like taking a road trip?" Jethro stood up and headed towards the door.

Seconds later, he heard DiNozzo jump out of the bed to follow him. "We going back to Washington, Gibbs?"

"Quantico. See if we find any Marines with a grudge."

He heard the young man's smile in his voice. "Ok, seriously. What are the odds that you would be the one to head up this case?"

Jethro just shook his head.

* * *

**Well, I hope that it was enjoyable. Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	6. Five

**Well ladies and gentleman, I am officially back from my internet hiatus. My family is doing well, I went to yet another birthday (these people have to stop procreating, but sadly I don't think that's gonna happen anytime soon). And even better news! My aunt got a new kitten. I'm talking this little boy is only like a month old. And he is so cute! I mean he's all fluffy, and active, but he loves to be held, and he nibbles on your finger. I wanted to kidnap him, but my aunt wouldnt' let me. Not that my cats would have appreciated it. My fat cat still hasn't forgiven me for bringing my attention whore home.**

**Well, moving on, Chapter five! I hope you all like it, and here we go!**

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Five

Gibbs drove the way to Quantico. Tony held on for dear life the entire way. He didn't remember Gibbs driving like this. Or maybe he just blocked out the memory. That was very likely.

"Oh dear God!" He clamped his eyes tight as Gibbs swerved around a semi truck. "I'm gonna die."

"You'll be fine."

He felt the car jerk again, but he refused to open his eyes. He did not want to see the end coming. At all.

The way his stomach moved around wasn't healthy. Any minute now he was going to empty the contents of his stomach all over the car. "I think you and I have very different definitions of the word 'fine,' Gibbs."

Even though he couldn't see it, he just knew that Gibbs was smirking at him.

After what felt like too long, they finally slowed down. Tony opened his eyes. They were outside the gates of the Quantico Marine Base. Tony smiled. "Cool." He had never been on a Marine Base before. Definitely cool.

They went through the gates and Gibbs drove down to the Taylor home. It looked just like any other house on the block. New, couldn't have been built more than a decade ago, or it was completely revamped recently. _America's tax money at work_, Tony thought to himself.

Gibbs climbed out of the car first, followed closely by the younger man. He shoved his sunglasses up his face as they headed towards the door. It was unlocked, and a piece of crime scene tapped was strung across the front. The two men ducked under it and headed into the living room.

The place had been cleaned, Tony couldn't tell that it had been a crime scene, but the crime happened months ago, even before Tony met Gibbs in the first place, so that was to be expected. Tony was actually surprised that the crime scene tape was still across the door. He looked to Gibbs in question.

"Case still isn't solved, DiNozzo."

Tony rolled his eyes, a smirk forming on his face. "I seem to recall you started calling me Tony back in February."

Gibbs wasn't looking at him as he answered. "That was before you let a sixteen year old murderer get kidnapped right in front of you."

The grin disappeared. That was a low blow. "You know, if I wasn't so sure that you could kill me with your bare hands, I would kick your ass." The words were teasing, but his tone wasn't.

Gibbs still wasn't looking at him. Tony sighed heavily. "Wanna tell me what we're doing here?"

"Catching you up on the case before we start the interviews."

"I read the report, Gibbs."

The older man finally turned to him. "There's a big difference between reading something on paper and seeing it firsthand." He was glaring. Tony was used to that. For the two days that they worked the case together before, Gibbs pretty much did nothing but glare. Every time he asked Tony a question, it was asked with a glare.

Needless to say, Tony was pretty immune to it. "Duly noted, _sir_."

Gibbs glared harder and his voice turned into a hoarse whisper. "Don't call me sir." He turned away and moved further into the house. "Sergeant Taylor was found here in a pool of blood."

"Stabbed? Shot?" Tony joined him and looked down at the invisible body, trying to envision what the scene must have looked like.

"Bludgeoned."

Tony spared a quick glance over at the older man. He said that one word in a way that was full of emotion Tony was sure Gibbs didn't feel. Fear, depression, pain. It was hard for him to stomach.

But they still had a job to do, and Tony wasn't going to get distracted by bad memories and nightmares. "With what?"

Gibbs snapped out of his reverie. He turned away and approached the end table. "The picture frame that used to sit here." He pointed to a spot that was now empty. The frame would have been bagged and tagged months ago. "We believe that Jamie picked it up and smashed it over his father's head."

"Got a theory for why?" Tony placed his hands on his hips and leaned on his back leg.

"Jamie was a trouble maker and a pain in the ass. His dad was gonna send him off—"

"Wait don't tell me," Tony interrupted, a wide fake smile plastered on his face. Inside he felt a pang of anger. "He wanted to send him to military school." He always hated the idea that parents could send their kids away like that. In his opinion, it was cowardly. The parent couldn't 'handle' a freaking teenager, so they let somebody else do it.

Although it was a little ironic, considering Taylor was military.

Gibbs smiled a little, Tony hoped it was because of the irony. "Sounds like you're speaking from personal experience."

Tony just shrugged. He didn't say anything. Even though inside he was still seething.

His father sent him away to military school when he was twelve. His reason was that he could no longer deal with Tony's anger. When he was told the news, he told his father to fuck off and ran away. He spent the time at Denny's place. Mary, Denny's mother, held on to him and promised that she wouldn't let him go without a fight. And she didn't. It took his dad three days to finally get him home.

"How did your mother die?"

Tony whirled around, his heart stopped beating and he stopped breathing. His jaw just dropped to the ground at Gibbs' question. At first, he wanted to ask how he possibly knew about that. Then he remembered. So instead, he picked up his jaw and gave the older man his best glare. "I don't really see how that's at all relevant to the case at hand, Agent Gibbs." He turned back to the screen. "So Sergeant Taylor was gonna send his kid off to military school, Jamie got pissed and…" he trailed off, waiting for Gibbs to finish.

"And he tried to run away. When Sergeant Taylor pulled him back, Jamie picked up the picture frame and slammed it in the back of his head."

"Are you sure he wanted to cause serious damage? I mean when I was a kid I did some pretty stupid things without thinking."

"That doesn't surprise me," Gibbs said under his breath.

Tony smiled again. "What? You never did anything stupid when you were a kid?"

Unsurprisingly, Gibbs ignored him. "After that, the mom started screaming, and Jamie tried to shut her up."

"How?"

"Strangled her with a neck tie."

Tony scratched his jaw. He tried to think back on what he read on the report. "Was that found on the scene?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No, Jamie took it with him."

"I don't get it."

Gibbs turned to him with a glare. "The kid was disturbed and he took his anger out on his parents. What's not to get?"

Tony rolled his head around. "His attack on his dad was a crime of passion."

"So was the attack on his mother."

"But where'd he get the neck tie? His dad wasn't wearing one, and I highly doubt that Jamie would think of bringing a _tie _with him if he was running away. If he beat his dad's head in, why didn't he just do the same with his mother? Why go looking for a tie to strangle her with? Why take that with him, but leave the picture frame?"

Gibbs stepped into his personal space, his glare even harder. Tony almost forgot that he did that. It was still annoying. "You really think this kid is innocent? Why? Because you worked this case for a couple hours?" Tony turned his head and huffed. It wouldn't serve anything to pound Gibbs' head in. "You're a good cop, DiNozzo. But you're still a kid. You've got a long ways to go still." He backed away and headed for the door.

Tony followed. "Hey, how's your team?" He said it as humorously as he could muster. He wasn't going to let Gibbs think that he could get to him. Not anymore. "Am I gonna be working with them too, or did you manage to scare them off."

Gibbs glared again. "Burley's on vacation."

"And Langer?"

"Transferred to the FBI."

Tony actually laughed. It wasn't fake. "So, not only did you scare him away from your team, you scared him completely out of NCIS! That's priceless!" He laughed even harder, especially after he saw the death glare that Gibbs sent his way. "Do you even know how to smile?"

Gibbs ignored him. "We still got questioning to do, DiNozzo."

The younger man mock saluted. "On it, boss."

**.**

Dennis continued to stare at his computer screen without really seeing what was on it. He had too many thoughts on his sleep deprived mind. He knew he needed to focus, a kid was missing, he could be dead, or dying. But he just couldn't get the words to unblur, no matter how hard he tried.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his daze. He was hoping it was Tony. He went off with _Gibbs_ about a half an hour ago. But it wasn't. It was his sister, Lea. He groaned. What could she possibly want?

"Morgan," he said into the receiver.

"Dana's pregnant."

Dennis blinked. And then he blinked again. "What?"

"Dana is pregnant."

Dana was his half sister. Dennis' father, Charlie left his mother when she was pregnant with Lea. His reason was because he impregnated his mistress and decided he wanted to be with her instead of a paranoid schizophrenic.

And now, Dana was pregnant.

"Is it Viktor's?" Viktor was Dana's husband. Viktor Zeklos, Dennis personally thought the guy was a scumbag, but Dana never really listened to him. Even though she was never faithful to the man, he was rich, so she was happy."

"I would hope so. But if it's not, I'm just gonna laugh."

Dennis chuckled. "Listen, Lea, I'm working a case right now—"

"Missing teenager, age 16, goes by the name Jamie Taylor?"

Dennis was quiet for a second. "How did you know about that?"

"I'm looking at the BOLO right now. Now I'm a little confused, I thought you had the weekend off."

Dennis rubbed his face. "I did, but then Tony called."

He heard her visibly groan. "You're a dumbass."

At that point, Dennis stood up and headed out of the room. He didn't need every one in his unit to hear his conversation with his sister. "How am I a dumbass?"

"Dennis, if you don't want to tell Tony the truth, that's your prerogative, but if you really want this thing with Stan to work, then you gotta stop following Tony around like a puppy dog!"

"I do not—"

"Yeah, you do. And I'm tired of watching it." She paused for a second. "Dennis, Tony's a good guy, I know that. But you can't be at his beck and call your whole life."

"He's my partner."

"Then get a new one."

He didn't want to hear anymore. He hung up before he could hear her say anything else. He knew that his relationship with Stan was over, he didn't need to hear her take on it.

He headed back into the squadroom. On his way back to his desk, he ran into his captain. Dennis groaned inwardly. Carnec was the last man he wanted to talk to right now.

"Where's your partner?" Carnec growled out.

Dennis tried to remain calm. "He went off with Agent Gibbs. They went to the Quantico Marine Base to follow a lead."

"Why didn't you go with them?"

Dennis shrugged. "I wasn't invited."

"So you thought you could just slack off since your partner wasn't around?"

Dennis bit back the insult he was about to sling. "That was Officer Morgan on the phone, sir."

Carnec nodded. "Yes, and what did your _sister _have to say to you?"

Dennis ground his teeth together. "That my half sister, Dana is pregnant." Carnec didn't need to know about the other half of their conversation.

Carnec turned away, still scowling. "It DiNozzo's?"

He was in his office with the door closed before Dennis could say something in response. Anger boiled through the man's veins. Now he was mad. Scratch that, he was freaking furious. Normally, Dennis liked his captain, but recently he had been acting like a complete prick.

Actually, it started around the time that they worked their case with NCIS back in February. Afterwards, Carnec had been giving Dennis and Tony a hard time. Dennis didn't understand it, they solved the case, and Baltimore Homicide got sole credit for the bust—something that royally pissed off Tony. Dennis couldn't figure out why Carnec had such a boot up his ass about it.

He'd think about it later. Right now, he was exhausted and he wasn't getting any actual work done. He headed upstairs for the Crib. Half an hour, that was all he needed. A half an hour of sleep and then he'd come back down and try and find this missing kid.

* * *

**That was the first time Tony ever said "On it Boss!" To Gibbs. Who's excited? I was, but I'm pathetic like that. Well, next chapter, the boys get a big break in the case that gives them even more questions to answer, and Gibbs does something really mean to Tony. I'd ask you to guess, but I don't think you'll get it, it's a little on the random side.**

**Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	7. Six

**Well, I did it. I finally did it! I finally managed to get my best friend to watch the greatest comedy ever made! Tonight I finally got her to watch Arsenic and Old Lace. She barely watches movies, and it's damn near impossible to get her to watch a black and white film. Ok, it's hard to get her to watch a movie that came out before the 80's and John Hughes. But she did it! And she liked it! Next stop, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof!**

**No, I am not a film buff, I like classic movies, sure, but it bothers me that my friends don't know who Cary Grant, Lauren Bacall and Gene freaking Kelly are. And it especially bothered me that my old coworkers (who are all over ten years older than me) used the excuse "Well, they were before my time" to explain why they don't know them.**

**Oh and before I forget, I am now officially on livejournal (blame unstoppableforce for that one *glare*), I'm posting most of my Gibbs/Tony stories (but the Slaughter House series is staying strictly on ff) as well as a few non fanfic stories. I'm whoring myself out right now, I am fully aware of that, lol. But you love me for it... I hope *glances around nervously***

**Oh and before I forget, this chapter is dedicated to Toadflame. You'll know why soon enough.**

**And now, onto chapter six!**

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Six

Jethro had almost forgotten how angry DiNozzo could make him. After what happened between them, he started to only focus on the kid's good points. His way with witnesses, his ability to put clues together. And above all, how well he could handle himself in a crisis situation. But the man also had a way of pissing Jethro off in a way that no one ever could before. It was certainly impressive, but it also gave Jethro the urge to rescind his original job offer.

He knew that he crossed the line with his earlier comment about letting Jamie get away. It wasn't completely DiNozzo's fault. If anything, it was Carnec's, for calling child services before they even knew who the boy really was.

Jethro wanted to save the boy, even if it was for no other reason than he was sixteen years old.

They headed first to Sergeant Taylor's best friend, Corporal Emmett Graham. He was a few years younger that Taylor, but he was a good guy. He refused to believe that Jamie could have possibly been responsible for his mother's murder and his father's attack. Jethro figured if anybody would help them, it'd be Graham.

Graham lived a few houses away from Taylor, so the two men just walked. When they reached the right house—the white one with sky blue trim—Jethro knocked, then stepped back and waited for Graham to open up.

DiNozzo stood behind him, rubbing his tired eyes. Jethro rolled his eyes. "You ever get any sleep in Baltimore, DiNozzo?"

The younger man just shrugged. "Used to," he looked up and smiled brightly at the agent, "and then I met you."

Jethro turned back to the door so the younger man couldn't see his smirk. "You ever return your mattress?" The first day they worked together, DiNozzo got upset because he realized he had spent a boat load of money on a bed that he wasn't even sleeping in.

"You remember that?" DiNozzo sounded in awe by that.

Jethro just shrugged his response, still not turning to look at the man.

"No, I actually sleep in my own bed now. Well, when I actually can sleep."

Jethro finally turned to look at him. He hoped he kept the shock off his face, but he was afraid he might have failed in that regard.

He was saved of making a comment by the door opening. Graham stood before them, a little confused. He was a good looking fellow, his hair cut in the standard high and tight Marine style. He was dressed in a fitting t shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Agent Gibbs. What happened?" He paled slightly. "Oh god, Phil, did something happen, is he…" he trailed off.

Jethro took pity on him. "Sergeant Taylor is still alive, Corporal Graham." He could imagine just how hard the man was taking this. According to his initial interview, Sergeant Taylor saved Graham's life in Iraq. He must have been miserable knowing that he couldn't return the favor.

Graham breathed a sigh of relief. He finally turned to DiNozzo. "You got a new agent?"

DiNozzo stepped forward. "Detective Anthony DiNozzo, Baltimore Homicide."

"You're a long way from Baltimore, Detective."

Jethro saw how DiNozzo's lip twitched. He turned to Jethro, his eyes basically saying that since he was lead, he got to break the news. Jethro shook his head. "Detective DiNozzo found Jamie last night."

Graham paled again. "Jamie, you found him? Is he ok? Is he hurt? What's gonna—"

Jethro cut him off by holding up his palm. "But, a woman claiming to be from Social Services showed up and took him." He retold the story about how the woman who came was really a fraud.

The more he spoke, the angrier the Marine became. He turned to DiNozzo, his face now completely purple. "So you just let some strange woman walk away with a sixteen year old kid?"

DiNozzo stepped back, but he managed to stay completely cool. Although Jethro could see his jaw grind together. Jethro tried to move the conversation back to him. "Can we step inside for a bit?"

Graham turned back to him. A vein was pulsing in the side of his thick neck. "You can, your friend can't." He turned to glare at the younger man again.

Jethro was about to say that wasn't going to happen when DiNozzo held up his hands in defeat. He turned to Gibbs and said, "Anybody else I might be able to interview instead?"

Graham answered for him. "I know one. Satan, when you go to hell." He stepped back to allow Jethro to enter.

Jethro spared one look at the younger man before he stepped over the threshold. He could see DiNozzo's anger rise. It sent a spark of worry up his spine. He was usually the angry one, not DiNozzo.

The young man turned around and headed down the path away from the house.

With a heavy sigh, Jethro turned back towards Graham and walked inside. Graham was cautious and closed and locked the door behind them. He led them into the living room and crossed his arms.

The living room was a decent size. It wasn't necessarily large, but it was comfortable. The colors were dark and the furniture flashy. The perfect bachelor pad. "What do you want to know, Agent Gibbs?" The man was very polite and kind.

Jethro decided he hated him. "Do you know if anyone on the base has been looking for Jamie recently?"

Graham tensed. "A few," he admitted.

"I'm gonna need their names."

The Marine shook his head. "I can't do that, sir.

Jethro stepped forward. He was trying to be intimating, but comforting at the same time. "Somebody kidnapped that boy to do God knows what. Why would you protect the person who took him?"

Graham's eyes turned cold. "Agent Gibbs, everybody loved Phil, but nobody could stand that kid of his."

"Does that give them the right to kidnap him?"

"They're just doing what you gave up on!"

Jethro stepped into the man's personal space. Graham might be young and in active duty, but Jethro was still pretty sure he could take him in a fight.

"Corporal, do you want me to haul your ass outta here in cuffs?"

The two men stared at each other for a long time, willing the other one to break. Jethro had spent a lot of time with Corporal Graham when this case first started four months ago. He knew that he was an impatient man. The agent knew that sooner or later, Graham would cave first. He always did.

"A couple of the guys in our old unit. They were mad when the search to find Jamie was shut down. So they started looking themselves."

"Do they think like you do?" Meaning were they trying to help Jamie.

"No." Meaning they were trying to hurt the boy.

"I need their names."

Graham shook his head. "I can't rat out my men."

Jethro stepped closer. "What about when they kill him? You can't help Jamie and protect the men who wanna hurt him at the same time."

They stared for another few minutes. Jethro watched the emotions swirl through Graham's eyes. He was torn. He wanted to help Jamie every way he could, but at the same time, he felt that he had to protect his men. He was a Marine. Marines take care of each other.

But in the end, sense won out. "Corporal McCane and Private Braithwright. They took Phil's attack and Karen's murder the worst."

"Worse than you?"

Graham ignored him. "If anybody took Jamie, it'd be those two."

"Where do they live?"

"McCane lives three blocks down from here 320 4th Avenue. Braithwright lives off base in Georgetown."

Jethro nodded. Without saying thank you, he took his leave. When he walked outside, he saw DiNozzo across the street chatting up with a cute blonde number wearing practically nothing. Probably on her afternoon run. Jethro stood at Graham's door, just watching the young man put on the charm. His smile was bright and inviting, and she was just eating it up.

Some things just never change.

He was already angry when he walked out of Graham's house. Now he was furious. He walked down the path and got right in DiNozzo's personal space. The man barely spared him a glance. Jethro reached up and smacked him in the back of the head.

DiNozzo finally stopped as a look of pain spread across his face. The blonde looked between them, her smile falling from her face.

DiNozzo cracked his neck before he turned back to her, all smiles. "He's my life partner, he gets jealous when I talk to women."

Looking frightened for her life, the woman slowly backed away from them before she started running full speed. She looked over her shoulder to make sure they weren't following her. DiNozzo sighed heavily. "Didn't think that was all that scary." He turned to Jethro. "I almost forgot you like to hit people."

"We got a missing kid on our hands, who knows what's happening to him, and you wanna waste time flirting?" He was half tempted to smack him again. Instead, he turned around and started walking for the car again.

DiNozzo jogged to catch up to him. "Are you still doubting me? I'm hurt, Gibbs."

Jethro glared.

"She said that she saw Jamie run out of his house when his mother was still alive."

That finally got the older man's attention. He turned around and stared at DiNozzo. He was surprised, but he hoped that it didn't show on his face.

"Her name, in case you're interested is Julia Chike. She wasn't close enough to hear the argument, but she distinctly remembered hearing Karen Taylor call for her son, she went outside to see what was wrong, and she saw Jamie running down the street. Karen was in the doorway calling after him." He smiled that smug grin of his. The one he had when he knew he did something right and made Jethro look like a fool.

But Jethro was livid. "Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?" He never met that woman before. When Jamie first went missing he led up one helluva search. How could they have missed something like that?

DiNozzo shrugged. "Did you handle the canvas last time, or did somebody else do it?"

Jethro cursed under his breath. He told Burley to cover that damn sweep, how could he miss something so crucial?

Without saying a word, he turned away from the younger man and pulled out his cell phone. He hit speed dial number three and waited impatiently for Burley to pick up.

"Burley," the blonde man said into the receiver.

"Get your ass in the office."

Burley was silent for a few seconds. "I took the week off, boss."

"We caught a lead in the Taylor case, and I want you in the office, now!"

"Alright, alright! I'll be there."

Jethro hung up. He turned around to see DiNozzo standing only a few feet away from him. He glared. "You're gonna go talk to Corporal McCane, he lives on 4th Avenue." He headed back towards his sedan.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the office!" He called over his shoulder.

"I don't have a car, Gibbs."

Jethro climbed in behind the wheel. "Call a cab." He started the engine and took off. He knew that it was probably wrong to leave the man behind like that, but he was furious, and it was just getting worse every second he worked this case. Now he had to find Burley at the office and kick his ass for missing something as crucial as a witness who saw Karen Taylor alive and well when Jamie left the house.

He also didn't want to deal with a smug DiNozzo when he knew that he was right.

**.**

Tony gaped open mouthed at the retreating vehicle. Gibbs just left him, standing there. Alone. On a Marine Base with no car to interview some guy when he had absolutely no idea why he was talking to this guy or where he really lived. He lived on 4th Avenue. How big was 4th Avenue?

He pulled out his cell phone. What was Gibbs' phone number? Damn it, he got it before, what was it? He shut his eyes as he tried to remember.

"Son of a bitch!" He didn't have the first clue what it was. He should have stored it in his phone.

Well, he might as well start looking for McCane. Tony looked around the block. There were two corners that he could see, but he couldn't see their names at this distance. "Where the hell is 4th Avenue?"

Mumbling under his breath about all the things he was going to use to kill Gibbs, Tony took off to the west. He'd have to find 4th Avenue eventually. And when he was done, Gibbs was going to die. It was going to be slow and painful.

Images of Gibbs being bludgeoned with a block of wood came to his mind. With perfect clarity, he saw the man, covered in blood, his face a mess you could hardly recognize him. He was tied to a chair, his head hung low…

Tony shook that thought out of his head. He wouldn't beat Gibbs to death. He might just shoot him. Maybe in the liver, or maybe the throat. That would take a while, and he wouldn't have to beat him. That sounded like a plan.

* * *

**Yes, Toadflame, you were correct. Gibbs left Tony behind at Quantico, which is why this chapter was dedicated to you.**

**Now, for everybody else, talk to me!**

**Bob**


	8. Seven

**Well, I have up to chapter ten complete, so I figured that I would post chapter seven. And even better news, my fat cat likes me again! She's sitting on my lap (granted it's insanely hot right now) purring. She's been hating me ever since I brought my attention whore home, which was about a year ago now. But I think she's finally getting over it. Although I kinda wish she didn't shed all over my computer.**

**To Tony Fan: Some Like it Hot was hysterical. It was the first movie I got when I got Netflix, BUT I don't actually own the movie, but I do own CoaHTR so that will be easier to get her to watch. Besides, Paul Newman. How can you say no to Paul Newman? lol**

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Seven

Jethro made it back to the Yard in record time. He went eighty miles an hour the entire trip, even when the speed limit was thirty. He parked the car and walked in the building. He didn't have coffee, and his mood was getting worse with every second without the caffeine.

Burley was going to hurt.

He exited the elevator and strode over to Burley's desk. It was the first desk he could see in the bullpen. Burley was slouched, his head resting on his fists. Apparently he wasn't enjoying his time off. Jethro smiled. He was going to make it a whole lot worse. And damn it, would he enjoy it.

He walked right up to him and whacked him as hard as he could in the back of the head. Burley's head flew forward, narrowly avoiding his computer monitor. Jethro leaned forward so he was level with his employee.

Burley looked at him incredulously. "What the hell was that for?"

"We reopened the Taylor case this morning."

Burley's jaw dropped open. "You know where the kid is?"

"You handled the canvas four months ago."

The younger man nodded. "Yeah, what's your point?

"We found a witness this morning who claims that she saw Jamie leave the house when Karen was still alive!" Every word he spoke was said louder and louder until he was shouting in Burley's face. By now they no doubt had an audience, but Jethro really didn't care.

His agent jumped to his feet, his face incredulous and accusatory. "Are you saying that I screwed up?"

"If you covered the canvas like you were supposed to, we could have found our killer months ago!"

"How do you know this witness didn't lie this morning? I covered every inch of that block, not a damn person told me that Karen was alive when Jamie left. And now four months later someone shows up and says differently?"

Jethro glared at him. "You're heading back to Quantico, recover the entire canvas." He finally quieted down. Now he was speaking barely above a whisper. He looked Burley up and down before he spoke again. "Try not to miss anything this time." He headed back to his desk. He wanted to look up this Julia Chike woman.

Burley stepped up to his desk. Jethro didn't look up. "Can I help you with something, Stanley?"

"You said 'we' found a witness earlier. Did you find somebody to replace Brent already?"

Still without looking up, Jethro answered, "We're working with Baltimore Homicide on this case."

He could practically hear Burley tense. "How is Baltimore Homicide involved?"

"They found Jamie Taylor."

Burley was silent for a second. "Jamie's dead?" He sounded terrified by that prospect.

Jethro jumped up, his anger flaring again. "I don't know! Could he be? Yeah. Is it your fault? Possibly. Does it really make a difference? I guess we'll never know. Now get your butt to Quantico or start looking for another job."

Burley glared at him for a few seconds before he headed for the elevator. He had already pushed the button before Jethro called after him. "And if you find Detective DiNozzo there, give him a ride back to the Yard."

He couldn't see Stan's face, but he knew that he was stunned by that.

Jethro turned back to his computer. He still needed to find out about Julia Chike. Why didn't she come forward before? Where did she live? How did they not find her before?

He slammed his fist into the desk before he stood up. His feet took him down to Abby's lab.

Abby Scuito was the forensic scientist for NCIS. She was completely different than what a forensic scientist should be. She was young, her hair was jet black, usually pulled into pigtails. She wore black lipstick, platform boots and had multiple tattoos over her body. At first glance, most people would probably assume that she was some depressed, homicidal nutjob who bit off the heads of bats and talked backwards in hisses. But truthfully, she was the sweetest person that Jethro ever met.

With the worst taste in music.

As soon as he entered her lab, his ears were assaulted by the sound of what could only be described as grating nails on chalkboards and glass. He slowed down and shut his eyes. He didn't know how Abby still had hearing listening to this crap. Hell, he didn't know how her brain hadn't melted yet.

Immediately, he went into her office and turned the music off. He bypassed Abby completely, much to her displeasure. "Gibbs!" She called after him.

The music stopped, pushing the room into blissful silence. Jethro was finally able to hear himself think again.

"What are you doing here?"

He turned back to her. "You remember the Taylor case?"

Abby nodded. "Of course I do."

"He caught a break." He recounted everything that happened that morning. He left out how he met with DiNozzo and Morgan. Abby was fond of Morgan, but for some reason she didn't like his partner. At all. Jethro figured that it would be safer to avoid talking about either of them for now.

He finished up by telling her about Julia Chike and what she apparently saw and heard. Abby's eyes went wide at that.

"Why didn't she come forward before?"

Jethro shrugged. "That's what I'm going to find out, but for now, I need you to go over all the evidence from the Taylor case again."

"Do you think I missed something?" She pouted. She never liked when people questioned her findings. She took it as a personal attack.

Not that he could blame her. People often took her age and her looks as a sign that she was incompetant. They had an idea of what a forensic scientist should look like, and that wasn't Abby Scuito. But Jethro kept telling them to stick it, you couldn't ask for somebody better.

He shook his head. "We all missed something on this case, Abby. I just want to double check." He grabbed her and hugged her tightly. When he pulled away, she didn't look as upset. "Can you do that for me?"

She nodded. "Will do, bossman." She wheeled around to face her computer again. Jethro didn't waste any more time, he exited the lab. He still had to find out who Julia Chike was.

**.**

Nineteen.

That was how old Tony's last sexual encounter was. Nineteen.

It was also the number of houses he checked on 4th Avenue.

He still had absolutely no idea where this McCane lived, and everybody who answered the door wasn't willing to indulge that information. They didn't trust the Baltimore cop on their turf, he supposed.

He was coming up to house twenty. It looked just like every other house in the area. Except the garden was completely dead. Whoever lived here clearly did not have a green thumb. Tony walked up the path to the front door.

He had to wait another minute or two before the door opened. Tony's jaw dropped to the ground and his eyes widened in shock.

Standing before him was Julia Chike. The woman who saw Jamie the night he ran away. It looked like Tony had pulled her away from doing her make-up, only half of her face was done. She was no longer wearing her running clothes. That was a little depressing, but she certainly hadn't covered up much.

Her skirt was short, her long legs were bare, and her top didn't just show cleavage, it showed breasts. Her nipples were barely being covered. If she was wearing a bra, Tony would have said she was at least a C cup.

It made him smile.

"Detective," she said as she plastered on a warm and seductive smile. She crossed her arms under her full chest and leaned against the door frame. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Well what a coincidence. I wasn't expecting to see _you_ here. See, when you say you saw Jamie the night his mother was killed, I assumed you lived across the street from him."

Her smile widened. "I was visiting a friend."

"What kind of friend?"

She looked him up and down. The way her face turned, it looked as if she was undressing him with her eyes. Tony did not object. "A good one."

Tony chuckled. "I'm gonna need a name."

She clicked her tongue before answering. "Corporal Pam Darklin."

Tony quirked an eyebrow. He certainly wasn't expecting that. "And what's her address?"

"Seventy-two. I assume you already know the street."

Tony's smile widened. She was too flirty and too provocative to be a Marine. The way she dressed and carried herself, he assumed hooker. But he couldn't figure out why a hooker would be answering the door on a Marine base, or visiting a female Corporal at her home.

"What were you two doing over there?"

She tilted her head to study him. "I don't believe that I have to answer that question, Detective." Well that solved one mystery. "Was there anything else I can help you with?"

"Actually yes. Do you know where I can find a Corporal McCane?"

"If your life partner gets so jealous when you talk to women, how does he handle it when you talk to men?"

He grinned. He almost forgot he said that to her. "Trust me, you don't wanna know. Do you know McCane or not?"

She nodded. "He's a good friend of mine."

"As good of a friend as Corporal Darklin?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She licked her heavily glossed lips and pushed off the door frame. "He lives four houses down, across the street. Go right."

Tony pulled one of his cards out of his pocket and held it out to her.

Instead of just grabbing the slip of paper, she grabbed his wrist and pulled it towards her exposed breasts. She stopped about a centimeter away. She turned a worried eye on him. "Just what does that life partner do to you?"

Tony tensed, but he still put on a smile. "If you think of anything, you give me a call, ok?" He said, completely ignoring her question.

She arched her eyebrow as a smile spread across her lips. "Anything, you say?"

Tony wanted to make a crack about never paying for sex, but somehow he managed to hold his tongue. Instead he pulled away and walked back down the path. She was a beautiful woman, but it wasn't worth it. There probably wasn't any traction left on her tires anymore anyway.

He absently rubbed at his wrist. The scars had faded, but he could still feel the rough and uneven skin. Even after three months. He wanted nothing more than to forget that any of that ever happened. But that was hard to do when he had so many physical reminders.

He was about to step onto the street to get to the other side when a car pulled up next to him. At first he was surprised. Maybe a little scared. You don't survive what he did without getting a little jumpy.

The passenger door opened. Stan Burley sat in the driver's seat.

He looked the same as he did before. Although he looked a little more worn, and he didn't look particularly happy to see Tony.

"Agent Burley," Tony said with a smile as he crawled in the car. "I thought you had the week off."

"Yeah well, I did. Until Gibbs called me back to redo my canvas from four months ago."

Tony smiled. He probably should have apologized since it was technically his fault, but he didn't.

"What are you doing here?" Burley asked.

"Gibbs left me here to interview a guy, without an address or a reason to question him." Now Burley smiled. Tony figured he kind of deserved that. But it didn't make him happy about it. "The woman you originally saw Jamie run out of the house is named Julia Chike. She's," he pointed to the house that he just left, "in there at the moment. But that night she was visiting a friend. She's a hooker." He relayed most of the conversation to the agent.

Burley listened, a little stunned, but still absorbing every word that he said. He worked with Gibbs, he should be good at this kind of thing.

After a moment, Burley finally said something. "Why did Gibbs leave you here?"

"I'm supposed to interview Corporal McCane."

"Why?"

Tony shrugged. He honestly had no idea. Gibbs didn't give him details. "I didn't even get an exact address on the guy."

Burley smiled again. Tony glared

He tried to imagine doing this every day. Working with Burley, following leads, putting up with Gibbs. He honestly couldn't see it. Sure, he liked Gibbs, and he—typically—worked well with the man, but something was off.

His entire police career was spent with Denny. The two went through the academy together. Hell, they were friends as long as Tony could remember. Tony had even been "adopted" into Denny's family. Denny had always been his rock, and he couldn't imagine not working with him.

Gibbs had offered him a job, a few weeks after he got out of the hospital. Tony had turned it down, and there was never a moment that he regretted that decision.

"Julia just gave me one, so I'm gonna go talk to him, if that's not a problem," Tony snapped. Burley's smile fell. Tony didn't care.

"I'm supposed to give you a ride back to Washington when I'm done going over the canvas again."

Tony beamed at him. "You have fun with that." He climbed out of the car and jogged over to the house that Julia had pointed out.

Burley rolled down his window and called to him. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help with that."

Tony turned around long enough to respond before getting back to his task. "Sorry. Wasn't given that order."

He hopped onto the porch and knocked on the door three times. He really hoped this guy was home. If he wasn't, Tony was going to get pissed. He bounced around on his feet, waiting for the door to open. After a minute, he knocked again, this time much harder. He didn't want to be standing out here all day, he wanted to talk to the guy and see what he could possibly know about Jamie Taylor's disappearance.

He knocked for the third time before he finally got a response. "I'm coming!"

"Move faster!"

The door swung open, and Tony was facing a very big, heavily muscled, cranky Marine. Maybe shouting at him wasn't his brightest idea.

"What the hell do you want?" The Marine shouted.

"You Corporal McCane?" Tony asked, his hand resting on his gun. He tried to put as much confidence into that sentence that he could muster. He was hoping that it worked.

"Who's asking?"

Tony pulled out his badge and flashed it at him. "Detective DiNozzo, Baltimore Homicide."

McCane studied the badge for over a minute before he looked back at Tony. Tony was ready to whack him when he finally spoke. "You a long way from Baltimore, Detective."

Tony ground his teeth together. He was really getting tired of people saying that to him. "I'm looking into the disappearance of Jamie Taylor."

The Marine tensed. Tony smiled at him. "I take it you remember him."

"He dead?"

"Not yet."

"Too bad." McCane moved to shut the door in Tony's face.

That wasn't going to happen. Without a second's hesitation, Tony grabbed the door and shoved his foot in the crack. If McCane had an inkling to slam the door, it would most likely break Tony's toes, but he was sick and tired of people slamming their doors in his face, and he wasn't going anywhere until he got answers.

"I take it you aren't a fan of Jamie's," he said, his voice cold.

"Jamie killed his mother and attacked Phil, that ain't right."

"What if I told you that we have evidence to believe that Karen Taylor was alive when Jamie disappeared?"

McCane snorted. "Right, like I would believe that."

Tony sighed heavily. "An eye witness just came forward. Jamie didn't kill his mother." He looked the man straight in the eye so there would be no doubt. He was telling the truth.

He watched as McCane processed it all. Slowly the anger faded around the edges. As it did, shock took its place. He let go of the door and stepped into his living room. Tony followed behind him, even though he wasn't invited.

The Marine ran a hand through his short hair, pacing back and forth. Tony studied him. The more he watched, the more he realized why Gibbs sent him to talk to the man.

"How much did you hate Jamie?" He asked. McCane still didn't say anything, he plopped down on his couch and covered his face with his hands. Tony took a step forward. His next words were said slowly, deliberately. "Maybe enough to kidnap him?"

The Marine stood up and crossed the room again. He stood in Tony's personal space. Tony wanted to step away, but he didn't. But his hand did find its way onto his gun again.

"How do you know that this witness was telling the truth? How do you know that he wasn't lying to you? In four months he never bothered to come forward before now?" The more McCane spoke, the louder he got.

Tony yelled too, just to prove that he could. "Why are you so willing to condemn a teenage boy?" He searched McCane's face. "Or is it because you wanna clear your conscious of killing an innocent kid."

"Jamie is not innocent!"

Tony was quiet as he let that settle. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "You didn't deny killing him."

He didn't even see the fist come barreling for his face.

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**Coming up next chapter, Ducky questions Gibbs about the butcher shop and Dennis realizes just how scummy his boss is. Can you guess what brings that on? Whoever's guess is closest gets chapter eight dedicated to them. So, talk to me!**

**Bob**


	9. Eight

**Well, I would say that the closest would be moonlightxwitch and The Greek Me, so this chapter is dedicated to the pair of you. *Hands virtual brownies* people always give over cookies, so I'm giving you guys brownies. And just a head's up, I make fantastic brownies. Even virtual ones.**

**Now, I have a question that I've been wanting to ask for a while now. How do you-the readers-think Tony and Gibbs met? Do you think it was a case, or an interview, or did the director shove Tony on Gibbs team after he finished FLETC? I mean, this is my version, but I want to hear what you guys think. How did our favorite duo find each other? Maybe someday we'll actually find out, lol.**

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Eight

_Then get a new one_. The words kept playing over and over in his head, no matter how hard he tried to block them out. Dennis couldn't believe that Lea would say that to him. If someone asked who understood him the best, he would say his sister. But after a comment like that he didn't know.

She knew that Tony was more than just his partner, he was Dennis' friend as well. Yet here she was, suggesting that he just dump him off like he was nothing.

He had finished his nap, and now he was back at his desk, going over the files from earlier. He was catching himself up with the old Taylor file. He had to admit, Gibbs was thorough. He checked out every place that Jamie could possibly hide, both on and off base. But they didn't think about Baltimore.

Jamie had been missing for four months, it made sense that he would be able to make his way to Baltimore, but the question was why? Why come all the way here? Did he know somebody here? And if he did, why was he sleeping in a hallway outside a cop's apartment?

Without a second thought, he jumped up from his chair and grabbed his coat. He was going to canvas the neighborhood, see if anybody recognized him.

But first, he wasn't doing it alone.

He sat down on the edge of Detective Halloran's desk.

Halloran was a good cop, with over twelve years as a detective under his belt. He was decent looking for an older guy. His red hair was cut close to his scalp, and the lines around his face were deep. Evidence of the hard years and sleepless nights.

Dennis smiled. "Hey, you busy?"

"Always," Halloran responded. "Why, what'd you need?"

"I need to do a canvas, but it'd go a lot faster if I wasn't alone."

The older cop looked up with a regretful look on his face. "If I could help, I would. But I just caught a double homicide this morning."

Dennis didn't believe that for a second. He had been here since before five o'clock, there had been no calls about double homicides. And Halloran hadn't left his desk for a long enough time to go check out a crime scene. That would have taken a couple hours to do. So why would Halloran lie?

He sort of figured what the problem was, but he wasn't happy about it. "Did Carnec order you not to help me?" He asked incredulously. The regretful look grew.

_Damn it, _he wiped a hand across his face. That crossed a line, and Carnec should know that.

He wasn't thinking as he pushed himself off Halloran's desk and stormed into Carnec's office. He was letting his anger and sleep deprivation guide him. The captain was sitting behind his big mahogany desk, leaning back in his chair. He looked smug.

"Problem, Detective?"

"We screwed up."

"I'm well aware of that—"

Dennis cut him off. "Not just me and Tony. _We_, all of us. You are not blameless in this matter. In fact, if we're honest, none of this would have happened if you hadn't butted in on our case and called Social Services prematurely."

Carnec jumped to his feet. He no longer looked smug. He looked pissed. "Where the hell do you get off talking to me like that?"

"Where do you get off going behind our backs? First you call Social Services without telling us, and now you tell the other guys that they can't help?"

"This is your mistake—"

"It's yours too! But right now, I don't give a damn about who's gonna take the fall, I care more about the kid who's out there somewhere, who might be dead, and you're making it damn hard for me to do my job!"

Carnec circled around his desk and moved into Dennis' personal space. "You don't like how I run my unit? Then why are you still here? Transfer out, or better yet, take that damn job offer from NCIS!"

Dennis blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?" There was no job offer from NCIS.

Carnec searched his face. The longer he stared, the more alight his eyes became. "He never told you, did he?" He chuckled. "You weren't offered a position, were you?" His chuckle turned into a bark of laughter. "That's rich." He moved back behind his desk.

It just left Dennis even more confused. "What are you talking about?" He repeated.

"I suggest you talk to your partner about that." Carnec sat down. "In the meantime, my decision still stands. This is an NCIS investigation, and I'm not giving them any more of my men to play with."

"Jamie Taylor's gonna die because of some stupid office pissing contest." Before anything else could be said, Dennis stormed out of the office. He made sure to slam the door as he went.

He didn't need this. Now he had another mystery that he needed to work out. Tony wouldn't have kept a job offer from him, would he? They were partners, hell they were best friends. If anybody deserved to know about an offer, it'd be Dennis. Right?

He silently cursed. He had a job to do, he could worry about a nonexistent job offer later.

He pulled out his cell phone and made a call. Carnec wasn't allowing anyone in his unit to help him, but he didn't have that much pull with other units. And if he did, well… Dennis didn't think anybody would really lose sleep if he volunteered the help from a Unie.

"Officer Morgan."

"Lea, how would you like to earn your jockstrap?"

**.**

This was getting stranger and stranger, and Jethro didn't like any of it.

Julia Chike, their mystery witness, was an escort. Picked up three times for prostitution. As far as he could tell, she had no family in the Marines, or any branch of the military. Yet when he saw her that afternoon, she looked rather at home. As if she belonged there. And she was there four months ago. How did that make sense?

He shouldn't have left DiNozzo back at Quantico alone. He could use another brain working this with him. But he left DiNozzo, sent Stan to recanvas, and Langer was no longer an NCIS agent. He was alone with a puzzle that didn't make any sense.

"Something bothering you, Jethro?" Ducky came to stand next to him.

Jethro didn't take his eyes off the plasma. He was still trying to make all the pieces fit together. "Our witness who saw Karen Taylor alive when Jamie took off is a hooker with no ties to the Marines, yet she's living on a Marine base. She was there four months ago on the night of the murder, but not the next day when Stan canvassed. Jamie didn't kill his mother, but still probably attacked his father. So who killed Karen? And why?"

Ducky made a small sound at the back of his throat. "I must admit, it is one intriguing puzzle."

"It's a pain in the ass."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, Jethro."

Jethro didn't say anything. A part of him wanted to point out that he couldn't figure the case out the first time, how was he supposed to do it this time when even more questions were popping up?

After another moment, Ducky started talking again. This time it wasn't about the case. Well, not directly, at least.

"I hear that you're working with Baltimore Homicide again."

Jethro couldn't help how his lip quirked in to a grin. "Yeah, Detectives DiNozzo and Morgan."

Ducky chuckled. "A bit ironic isn't it? I mean, out of anybody who could have caught this case, it happened to be those two?"

Jethro shrugged. "I worked with a lot of local LEOs, Duck. There's always a good chance I run across one of 'em again."

"True, but you don't take a liking to every one of those LEOs." He paused. Out of the corner of his eye, Jethro saw Ducky turn to him with a knowing smile on his face. "And you certainly don't offer all of them a job."

"He turned me down."

"Yes, but you still made the offer. One has to wonder why."

Jethro shrugged. "He was a good cop."

"He was. But so are many of the other officers that you meet up with. Jethro, I saw you watch over that young boy in the hospital. You came to trust him." Jethro tensed. Ducky continued. "And care about him."

Jethro didn't say anything. It was true. All of it. Sure, DiNozzo was a pain in the ass who liked to make jokes in the worst situations, and sure he knew far too much about movies. But Jethro did trust him. And he did come to care about him.

"Jethro, what happened in that butcher shop three months ago?"

The agent tensed. "Read the report."

"I have. It's all very technical, but there's something lacking." He paused to study Jethro's reactions. Jethro hoped he kept his face blank. "Or would missing be a better word?"

He finally pulled his eyes away from the plasma. "Drop it, Doctor." His eyes were cold and his voice hard. He wasn't going to talk about this. What happened in the butcher shop was one of his most painful memories and he wasn't going to talk about that. Ever.

Before anything else could be said on the subject, Jethro's office phone rang. He leaned over his desk and picked up the receiver. "Yeah, Gibbs," he said into the microphone.

"You know you're a bastard right?" DiNozzo's voice boomed through the speaker.

Jethro couldn't suppress the smile. "Yeah, I figured that out, thanks. You talk to McCane?"

"I did, no thanks to you. I mean, dumping me off on a Marine Base that I've never been to, to interview a witness when I don't know what to ask, and you don't even give me a freaking address!"

He really couldn't say he regretted any of that. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I didn't have your number. I had to call up freaking dispatch just to get you now!" Jethro heard some muffled sound in the background. "Shut up!" DiNozzo yelled. "I'm trying to talk here!"

Jethro minutely shook his head. "There somebody there with you?"

"Yeah, Corporal McCane. He's a little upset about being handcuffed to his dining room set."

Jethro took a moment to process that. "You handcuffed a Marine to his dining room set?"

"Well it was either that or his gas line, but then images of _Kiss the Girls _came to mind, and I didn't have a milk carton that I could shoot through if he decided to pull out a lighter."

None of that made any sense to Jethro. Hell, none of that made any sense period. "What?"

He could practically hear DiNozzo roll his eyes. "McCane attacked me. I handcuffed him to stop him from pummeling me."

"How did you manage to best a Marine in a fist fight?" Jethro saw Ducky's eyebrows shoot up and his jaw drop. It was an understandable reaction. Jethro was stunned too.

"I'm a cop, Gibbs. I do know how to take down suspects."

Jethro didn't know how to respond to that. Even as a cop, DiNozzo shouldn't have been able to beat a Marine. They were some of the best. Strong, solid, tough. "Why did he attack you anyway?"

"Because I accused him of killing Jamie Taylor."

"Did he?"

"Well I don't really know, after I cuffed him all he's really said was a string of profanity even I wouldn't say. I don't suppose I could get help bringing him back to the Navy Yard, could I?"

Jethro nodded, even though DiNozzo couldn't see it. "I'll get Stan to do it."

Before he was able to hang up, he heard DiNozzo say, "How does that help me?" He shook his head with a grin on his face.

Ducky stepped forward, still looking stunned. "Did I hear that correctly? That young man won in a fist fight with a Marine?"

Jethro's grin grew wider. "Yeah." He didn't know what else to say.

"Impressive."

Jethro didn't say anything else as he picked up the phone and dialed Stan. He told him to meet DiNozzo at McCane's address and bring the Corporal in for questioning. Stan protested for a little while. Apparently, he wasn't all that fond of DiNozzo, although Jethro couldn't for the life of him figure out why. They hadn't worked together that much before. Hell, Langer had more interactions with DiNozzo, and even then, it wasn't much.

But DiNozzo did pull a gun on Stan. That could very well be the problem.

After another moment of protest, Jethro shouted out, "Just do it" and hung up. He leaned against his desk and stared at the plasma again. He folded his arms across his chest and breathed heavily. He had another puzzle piece in his lap. _How was McCane connected to Julia Chike_?

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**I apologize that it's so short, but I honestly don't know if the next chapter is much longer. But, raise your hand if you expected this turn of events! **

**And coming next week, our [second] favorite Baltimore Detective discovers one crucial point of the plot and Tony does the unthinkable to Gibbs! Stay tuned to find out what!**

**Bob**


	10. Nine

**Well, ok, this story is longer than the others, rounding off at about eight pages. Guys, I swear I'm trying to write them as long as possible, but they don't want to cooperate for me.**

**Also, I got a lot of good feedback regarding my question from last chapter, how do you think Tony and Gibbs met, just about all of you said that they probably met during a case, The Greek Me was very specific, believing that it happened during an undercover case. Demonic-blackbird pointed out that how Gibbs always picked his team after working a case with them, which is a very valid point that I have to agree with.**

**This is by far the earliest I've been up in months. Damn my best friend had to go and decide that she wanted to get married, so now I get to go downtown and watch them get their marriage license. Ok, ok, I wanted to go, but still! I go to bed at this time, and now I'm up and ready to face the day! It's... weird.**

***Hands brownies to UnstoppableForce,* This chapter is also dedicated to you. You know why. **

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Nine

It didn't take long for Burley to show up at McCane's apartment. After that, he and Tony pulled the Marine into their car and drove back to the Navy Yard.

The last time Tony had headed up to Washington, he couldn't help but stare around like a tourist. This time, he leaned against the window and slept. Gibbs had interrupted his nap that morning. His head hurt. Well, actually his head hurt after it slammed into the bunk. Now it pounded after the beating he took from McCane.

The bastard decked him in the nose, sending Tony to the ground. After that it was a blur of fists and legs. Tony wasn't really sure how he managed to take McCane down. But the next thing he knew, the very big Marine was handcuffed to his table leg and blood was dripping in his eye. Otherwise he looked perfectly fine. Tony had a hard time standing on his own, but he wasn't going to let Gibbs know that he got lucky.

Burley smacked one of the bruises on his arm to wake him up. Tony's eyes jerked open in a mixture of shock and pain. "We're back," was all the blonde man said.

Grumbling, Tony pulled himself out of the car. He made sure to slam the door. He wasn't particularly fond of the agent, but right now it took all of his will power not to pull out his gun and shoot the man dead for that little stunt. Careful of his aching body, he opened the backdoor and grabbed onto the giant Marine. With Burley's help, he pulled McCane out of the backseat and dragged his semi conscious body into the NCIS lobby.

When he saw who the security guard was he almost groaned. When he was here before, it took him a ridiculously long time to convince the security guard that he really was a cop and not a fake. And of course, knowing his luck, the guy standing behind the desk was the same one as before. Somebody upstairs hated him. Only logical explanation.

"Hey Henry," Burley said as they neared the metal detectors.

Henry stepped up, chuckling warmly. "Well I'll be damned, didn't know ya had it in you, Stan."

Burley shrugged, still smiling. Tony almost groaned. "He didn't," he said a little breathlessly. McCane wasn't exactly light.

Henry turned to him as though he just noticed that he was there. Then he tilted his head with a confused look on his face. "Don't I know you?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Detective Anthony DiNozzo. Last time we met, I held Agent Gibbs as a sex slave for twenty-four hours?" He still hadn't forgiven the old man for that.

That finally clicked in Henry's head, as his face lit up and his smile widened. "Oh yeah! Hey, what are you doing here? You did that?" He lightly chuckled. "Wouldn't have expected that."

"But you can believe that Burley did it? I'm bigger than he is!"

Burley scoffed. "Yeah, fatter," He said under his breath.

A part of Tony thought of glaring at that. But then he discovered a better punishment.

He ducked out from under Corporal McCane's arm, leaving Burley to lug all of his dead weight alone. The blonde agent struggled to keep him upright. Grinning, Tony walked over to the security desk to get his visitor's pass. Henry kept glancing back at Burley and McCane, but Tony pretended not to notice.

Once they were all set they headed towards the elevator. Tony made sure to keep a good distance between himself and Burley. The older man glared at him as they approached the elevator. He glared when they stepped inside. And the entire time they rode up to the appropriate floor, Burley glared.

After they stepped onto the floor, Tony didn't know if Burley was still glaring or not. They went separate ways. Tony went to find that bastard, Gibbs, while Burley went to drop McCane off in an interrogation room.

Ah! There he was.

Tony saw the old agent near his desk staring at the plasma screen television that separated Burley's desk and Langer's old desk. And he wasn't alone. As Tony approached he realized that it was Ducky, NCIS' medical examiner.

_Ducky_ was really Dr. Donald Mallard, but for some reason he preferred the name of a John Hughes' character. Although Tony doubted that was how he got his nickname. He was an older short fellow with a thick Scottish accent. They didn't have a good first meeting, but the more time Tony spent with the man, the more he grew to really like him.

But he held onto his anger for being dumped off alone at Quantico as he strode into the bullpen. He stood behind Gibbs for only a split second before he wheeled back and whacked him in the back of the head.

Gibbs spun around, fire in his eyes and veins throbbing in his temple.

Tony knew that the man before him could very well kill him. In fact, he was sure that Gibbs was secretly a homicidal maniac who got his kicks killing cops. And Tony wasn't exactly up to par at the moment. His body was screaming at him in agony that an ant could probably kick his sorry ass right about now. But despite the fact that his knees were knocking against his other, Tony held Gibbs' gaze with a glare of his own.

"If you're gonna kill me, I might as well go down fighting." He shrugged.

Gibbs stepped into his personal space again, still glaring. Tony wanted to look down to see if the man was holding a knife. It would be the man's style to stab him in the bullpen for a well deserved headslap.

_What rule said that you should never go anywhere without a knife? Was that number ten? No! It was number nine_. He didn't know how he did it, but he just kept staring in Gibbs' cold blue eyes.

He stepped into Gibbs' personal space and kept his voice low. "Don't you _ever_," he put extra emphasis on _ever_, "leave me like that again. I am not one of your agents." He shook his head. "Don't for a second think that you can treat me however the hell you want."

It was a blatant mimic of Gibbs, and if Tony knew it, then Gibbs sure as hell knew it too. But the younger man figured that the only way for Gibbs to take him seriously, was if he acted like Gibbs.

After another minute or two of their glaring contest, Gibbs backed up, slightly nodding his head. "Ok."

Tony nodded in response. "Alright."

Over Gibbs' shoulder, Tony saw Ducky watching on with his jaw to the floor and his eyes threatening to pop out of his skull. Tony smiled.

"You find anything useful when you were at Quantico?" Gibbs asked, completely ignoring the conversation they just had.

Tony nodded, immediately going into business mode. "Yeah, I found Julia Chike."

If he thought he was going to get a reaction out of that, he was wrong. "You figure out she's a hooker?"

"She offered me her services," He said with a smile.

"You accept?"

Tony laughed. "You really think I need to pay for sex, Gibbs? It's like you don't know me at all."

"She tell you anything useful, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, exasperated.

"She was with another woman the night that Karen Taylor was murdered." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gibbs' eyebrow quirk. "And yeah, she was a Marine. Corporal Pam Darklin. But if there's more to the story, you're gonna have to ask Agent Burley."

"You didn't interview Corporal Darklin?"

Tony turned with a bright—albeit completely fake—smile on his face. "I was trying to find Corporal McCane, Gibbs."

Gibbs glared for another second before he turned back to the plasma. Julia Chike's arrest history was spread across the screen. "What was she doing on a Marine base this morning?"

"From what I could guess she was living there."

"She has no family in the Marines. And she's a prostitute. Why would a Marine be housing a prostitute?"

"_Pretty Woman_," Tony blurted out the second Gibbs finished speaking. He turned to face the older man. Gibbs was staring at him like he had two heads. "The movie. Richard Gere hired a hooker, played by a very young and sexy Julia Roberts, to be his permanent escort for a week."

Gibbs shook his head. "Why?"

Tony shrugged. "Chick flick, what do you want me to tell ya?"

They were silent for a while. Tony watched the wheels spinning around in Gibbs' head. Eventually he moved around Ducky and started walking away. Tony followed close behind. "Where we headed?"

"I need to figure out if Stan talked to Corporal Darklin."

"I would hope he did, I told him all about her."

"Yeah well," Gibbs said under his breath. "He screwed up the original canvas."

Tony couldn't deny that. "Hey, while you're doing that, how about I interrogate McCane?" He put on his brightest smile. It wasn't fake either. He would love nothing more than to get in that room and get revenge for that prick beating him.

Gibbs scoffed. "You even know how to interrogate someone, DiNozzo?"

"You ever gonna stop doubting me, Gibbs?"

They stopped in the middle of a long corridor. Like just about everything else that Tony had seen, it was painted a bright vibrant color, namely _orange_. He thought it was an interesting color choice, but he decided not to actually voice his thoughts for once. Gibbs turned and tried to glare him down. Tony almost rolled his eyes. One of these days, Gibbs was going to act like a normal person and not try to turn everything into a staring contest.

"Fine." That was all Gibbs said. One word, before he turned and started walking again. Tony's smile widened.

"Impressive."

Tony swiveled around at the sound of Ducky's voice. He wasn't even aware that Ducky had followed them. "What's impressive?"

Ducky stepped closer, his eyes downcast. "I've known Jethro for many years, Detective. In all that time, I have never met anyone who even thought about slapping him like that. That alone is a considerable achievement, but that he lets you take an interrogation…" the older man trailed off.

Tony didn't really understand why that was impressive. He understood the slap thing. But that he got to question a suspect? "What? Gibbs doesn't let his agents in interrogation?"

Ducky finally looked up into his eyes. "It took Stan three years before Gibbs allowed him into interrogation. Agent Langer was barely allowed in the observation room."

Tony's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. It made sense, he knew that. You don't send a rookie to get a confession. But three years was a pretty damn long time. Still, he shrugged. "I'm a cop." He assumed that when Burley and Langer first showed up at NCIS, they had never worked in law enforcement before. It made more sense to make them wait.

Ducky nodded. "Yes, a cop that he's only known for a short period of time."

"Three months."

The older man gave him a look. "Be reasonable, Detective. In that time, he only worked with you for a handful of days. What was it? Two? Three?"

Tony tensed. "Felt like longer." He turned and started walking. He only hoped that he was heading in the right direction.

Not really surprisingly, Ducky followed behind him. "What happened at that butcher shop, Detective?"

At that point, Tony wanted nothing more than to run away. But through the use of some serious will power, he refrained. "It's in the file," he said as monotonously as possible.

"Which I read. It's all very technical."

"It's a report, Doctor, not a novel."

He felt a hand wrap around his elbow to stop his retreat. He spun around to be met with a very sympathetic medical examiner. "How long did it take you to write that?"

He shrugged. "Twenty minutes. I'm a slow typer." It was true. Tony actually whizzed through that report. He refused to take a break, didn't so much as stop to play a card game once. He just forced his fingers to keep typing, even when they cramped on him. Or when he had the urge to throw up. He knew that if he stopped at any moment he would never be able to finish it.

"Detective, I understand that what happened to you is tragic. Believe me, I have been through some pretty traumatic events myself. But I guarantee you, it gets much easier to handle if you talk about it with someone."

Tony stood and listened to Ducky as he talked. He tried to act patient, and maybe a little grateful. But inside he was holding in his anger. He didn't know why Ducky thought he could say anything to him. They weren't friends, they weren't even colleagues. They met each other a handful of times. Sure, Tony found himself normally liking the elderly gent. But right now he was having a flashback of the first night they met. Tony had wanted to slug him that night.

"Do you know where I can find the interrogation room? I should really get started."

The sympathetic look left Ducky's face. He sighed heavily before he turned and walked away. Without giving Tony the directions.

He was starting to think that was common behavior with NCIS personnel. First Gibbs left him at Quantico with nothing but a name and a street, and now Ducky was leaving him with nothing but a headache and a clenched heart.

**.**

His chest ached. He had been running for a while, trying to catch some teenage punk who "lived" by Tony's apartment complex. The second that Dennis had flashed a picture of Jamie Taylor the kid took off.

And damn he was a fast runner.

Dennis wasn't out of shape by any stretch of the imagination. He was an athlete at heart. But unfortunately, he was also getting older. He needed to hit the gym more often. His cardio was lacking.

He reached out, his fingers grazing the punk's worn denim jacket. But he wasn't close enough to get a good grip. Only a few more steps, and the kid was his.

He heard the sirens before he saw the car. His car. Coming to a halt only a few feet in front of the kid. The punk slowed to a stop, but from his body language it was obvious that he was planning on trying another escape route.

Dennis grabbed his shoulder and slammed him into the hood of the car. Lea climbed out from behind the wheel, her gun already drawn and aimed at the kid's head. Dennis threw his hand up for a reason he couldn't fully comprehend. It wasn't going to stop a bullet. If she fired, all that would change would be that he lost a finger or two. But the kid would still be dead. "Put that thing away! You even know how to use that?"

She glared at him. "I do know how to fire a damn gun, _Detective_," she sneered his title. She already pointed out that she was still mad that he hung up on her earlier.

"He's a kid."

"That's why I'm not shooting him!"

"What the hell is this?" The kid screamed, pulling the two siblings out of their argument. "Get the hell off me!"

"I don't think so," said Dennis. He pulled out his cuffs and attached them to the punk's wrists. "Why don't we start with your name."

"Bite me!"

Dennis reared back and slammed the kid into the car again. Next to him, Lea cringed. "Why don't we try that again," he said in a dangerously calm voice. "What's your name?"

The kid panted heavily for a few seconds before he finally started talking. "John Tearburn."

"Well, Mr. Tearburn, wanna tell me why you ran?" He spun the kid around to glare at him better.

John looked like he hadn't bathed in years. His teeth were more than just yellow, actually they looked kind of green. His clothes were dirty, covered in holes and slashes. Dennis was surprised to find the kid's light brown hair was relatively short. His skin was tanned, evidence of all the days he spent outdoors. If he cleaned up he'd be a good looking kid.

John refused to meet his eye. Instead he stared at Lea. "What the hell happened to your ear?"

Lea tensed up slightly, andDennis knew why. The same case that made Dennis a detective took a chunk out of his sister's right ear. Tony shot Neal Ellerbe because he grabbed Lea with the intent to kill her. However, his aim wasn't the best and his bullet ended up grazing her. It was a painful memory for all involved and they really didn't like talking about it. Or even being reminded of it.

It was the last straw.

Dennis grabbed the kid by the throat and squeezed. John squawked. The cop moved in close so his face was only inches away from the kid's face. "I am not going to ask again. Why the hell did you run?"

"Look I didn't do nothin'!"

Dennis squeezed tighter, John gasped, trying to pull air into his lungs, but failing.

"Den!" Lea screamed, moving closer to the two of them. She pushed Dennis' hand away. John dropped, gasping hard. Lea put a hand on her brother's chest, her face full of betrayal and anger. "Calm down."

She turned back to the kid. "I don't care what you did or didn't do. What I care about is the teenage kid who's been kidnapped. And I have a feeling that you know why."

"I don't!"

"Then why'd you run?"

The kid was quiet for a while. But the more that Dennis watched, the more he realized what the problem was. The kid was damn scared. "What are you running from?"

"Look," John said, near hysterics. "Jamie was gonna talk to you, and look what happened to him? I ain't goin' out like dat."

"Talk to us about what?" Dennis asked.

John chuckled. "I ain't tellin' you!" He sobered. "Look, I don't wanna get dead too."

Lea stepped forward again. "Jamie was your friend, wasn't he?" She waited a few seconds for an answer. John stayed silent, but his expression was answer enough. "We don't know if Jamie's dead or not, but if he's not, then we need your help to save him. Or are you gonna let your friend die to save your own sorry ass?"

He glared, although it didn't hold too much venom. "What if he's already dead?"

"Then don't you think you owe it to your friend to help bring his killer to justice? You said that Jamie was gonna talk to us. He was brave. He was gonna do the right thing. What about you? You willing to do the right thing? Are you willing to be brave?" She paused, searching his face. "For your friend?"

Dennis couldn't lie, he was impressed. He knew he made the right call by calling his sister. She was still only a rookie, but she was tough. She had to be, with him as an older brother. But he still had no idea that she knew how to talk to people like this. It made his chest swell with brotherly pride.

"He didn't tell me everything." John still refused to look them in the eye, but he was talking. That was definitely something.

Lea nodded. "Ok, what did he tell you?"

"Dat he saw somethin'."

Dennis shook his head in slight confusion. "What?"

John finally looked up at them. His eyes were glazed over with fear and unshed tears. "A murder."

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**Was anybody expecting that? Raise your hand if you saw that coming! Well, I hope you liked it. Bad things are gonna start happening soon. Are you ready? Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	11. Ten

**Ok, I am going out of town tomorrow, so you won't have an update until, at least, Monday. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And I really don't know what else to say. Wow, I am officially at a loss for words. **

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Ten

Dennis was sure that he heard wrong. There was no way that he heard John correctly. "Who was murdered?"

John shook his head and shrugged in unison. "He didn't know."

"Well what did he say?" Dennis asked as he rolled his eyes.

"He said dat he saw a coupla Marines on his dad's base kill some bitch."

Dennis shared a shocked look with his sister before turning back to their witness. "Who else knew about this?"

John did his shrug, shake combo again. "Some social worker."

"Name?"

It was clear that John was getting pissed the longer this conversation went on. "Somethin' Smith! She was a fat nigger chick."

Dennis smacked him in the face, which effectively wiped that annoyed look off John's face. "Don't you ever talk like that in front of me again," he seethed. It wasn't a hard slap so he didn't feel bad for doing it.

Especially not after the kid turned to Lea. "That's police brutality. You gonna do somethin' about it?"

Lea shrugged. "I didn't see anything."

Dennis smiled before he turned back to the punk. "The Social Worker, her name Gloria Smith?"

John sneered. Dennis glared, fully prepared to slap him again if he didn't answer. But it was unnecessary. "Yeah, dat's her. And look what happened to her? She got dead."

"Gloria Smith was killed in a car crash."

"Only a coupla days after she talked to Jamie. You think dat's a coincidence? 'Cause if you do, you're a helluva lot dumber than you look."

Dennis glared again. This kid was really getting on his nerves. "Who did he see commit the murder?"

"He didn't know."

"Sure he did."

"Well if he did, he didn't tell me, I didn't want to know. Now can you uncuff me?" His fear had completely dissipated. Now all that was left was the annoying snarkiness that Dennis came to associate with teenagers.

With a huff, he turned John around and removed the cuffs. He had enough to bring the kid in, but honestly, he didn't want to deal with him anymore. And he told Dennis everything that he knew.

But still…

He flipped the kid yet again and slammed him into the car's hood. He inched ever closer to the boy till they were practically nose to nose. "If I need to talk to you again, you better make yourself available."

John glared. "You can usually find me around here. These people don't really give a damn if they see a coupla kids hanging around."

Dennis smiled. It wasn't pleasant. "Good." He finally get John go. The kid glared again before he finally took off. Dennis and Lea watched his retreating back until he was completely out of sight.

"How'd you know the name of the social worker?" Lea asked.

Dennis shrugged as he climbed into the car. "That was the name of the woman who came to pick him up."

He shut the door. Lea stood outside his window staring at him in shock again. He couldn't blame her. He hadn't exactly given her a lot of information when he dragged her out of her precinct.

"You gonna get in or do you want me to just leave you here?"

She finally picked up her jaw and climbed into the passenger's side. Dennis started the car and headed back to where they came from. While John had been incredibly helpful, they still weren't done with the canvas. And the kid made some pretty good distance between here and there.

"You wanna tell me what exactly it is that I'm doing here?" Lea asked, incredibly annoyed after a minute of silent driving.

"We're canvassing a neighborhood. It's police work, I figured you would know that by now."

"Why am I here and not Tony? What's going on, what is this case?"

"You got the BOLO."

Lea rolled her eyes. "I got a BOLO with a missing kid wanted for murder, but I don't even know who he murdered, or why he's freaking missing!"

"His mother."

Lea jerked her gaze to stare at him bewildered again. Dennis took his eyes off the road to meet her eye. "He murdered his mother." He didn't tell her anything else. She didn't need to know the case. She was just here for situations like with John. Chasing after a suspect was better with two people instead of just one.

After another moment she got her bearings again. "That still doesn't explain why you called me and not Tony."

"Tony's not here." He said it quickly, hoping that she wouldn't question it.

No such luck. "Where is he?"

Dennis sighed heavily. "Last I heard he was at Quantico."

"The Marine base?"

"You know any other Quantico?" He snapped.

Lea glared at him. "You wanna tell me what I did to piss you off so bad?"

They finally made it back to their starting point. Dennis pulled off and parked in his original spot. He took that as a good omen. "You should already know that."

The two of them climbed out of the car. Together, they started walking down the street. He could see a couple of kids hanging around at the corner. "You're pissed because of a phone call?"

He wheeled around and glared at her. "'Then get a new one.' You remember saying that to me?" He was still pissed that she would say something like that to him.

But Lea just blinked. "Yes. I told you to get a new partner. How does that deserve the cold shoulder that I'm getting?"

He didn't want to talk anymore. She wasn't getting it. He turned around and started walking again.

Naturally, his sister followed. "I said get a new partner, not a new best friend."

"What's the difference?"

Lea groaned. "Den your partner is your best friend that you grew up with."

"What's your point?"

"You're also in love with him!" She said that far too loudly for his liking.

He spun around and grabbed her shoulders. He pulled her away from the street. Slamming her into the side of the brick building in the alley, he stepped into her personal space. "Keep your damn voice down," he hissed.

Lea rolled her eyes. "I'm not trying to out you. I'm just trying to point out how dumb you are. You're in love with your partner."

"Shut up."

"You need to understand! Usually the police has a few issues with partners who are that close."

"Tony and I work well together."

"You are destroying a perfectly good relationship because the two of you work well together?"

"I already know that Stan and I are over."

"But why?" Even though she was keeping her voice low, to Dennis it felt like she was screaming at the top of her lungs. "Why are you so willing to throw everything away? What? You think that if you're always at Tony's beck and call he's gonna realize he's suddenly gay and be with you?"

"I thought you wanted me to tell Tony!"

"I do, because I know that, as your friend, he'll accept you and love you unconditionally still." Dennis felt his heart clench a little. Lea rolled her eyes. "Like a brother. He's gonna love you the way he always has. But Den, you and I both know that he's never gonna love you the way you want him to."

"You don't know that." He knew that he was grasping at straws, but he didn't care.

The logical side of his brain told him that everything that Lea just said was completely true. Tony saw him as a brother. For years now, he's been forced to listen to every graphic detail of Tony's sex life. Every story of every _woman_ that he ever bedded. Dennis knew that Tony was never going to switch teams. And he certainly wouldn't do it for his 'brother.'

But there was always hope in there as well. He kept saying to himself that if he never told Tony how he felt, then there was always the possibility that he wouldn't reject him. That somehow, Tony would reciprocate his feelings. It was foolish, but he had to cling to that hope. Even if it destroyed his relationship with Stan in the process.

Lea stared at him, clearly frustrated. After another moment of just watching him, she groaned. "Forget it. If you wanna act like a teenage girl, then I'm not gonna indulge you." She pushed him away, still annoyed. "You're gonna end up alone."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll still have my partner."

She shook her head. "You're hopeless." She moved around him and out of the alley.

Dennis huffed, rubbing his tired eyes. She didn't understand. How could she? She didn't know what they had gone through. What Tony almost did.

How could she understand that Tony needed him?

**.**

When Jethro found Stan, he was walking out of the interrogation room. He still looked miserable and worn out. If Jethro was an overly sympathetic man, he might have taken it easy on the young man.

But Jethro was not an overly sympathetic man. "You talk to Corporal Darklin, Stan?"

The blonde looked up at him with a surprised look on his face. Apparently he hadn't noticed his boss approach.

It took him a few seconds before he was finally able to answer. Jethro almost smacked him to get him to talk when he started. "For the second time, boss. Her story didn't change."

"You think Chike was lying?"

Stan shrugged. "Well, like I said, her story didn't change. At all. It was an exact word for word account of what she told me four months ago."

Jethro grinned. In four months, her story should have changed. Even if it was only a little bit, something should have changed. "Did you ask her about the hooker?"

Stan nodded. "I did, then she got defensive and scared, but she denied everything. And then kept to her original story."

"Head back to Quantico. Pick up Chike and Darklin. I wanna talk to both of them." He stepped back, planning on heading into the observation room until Stan stopped him.

"By myself?"

Jethro shrugged. "Call Detective Morgan." _Did Stan just tense?_

"He's all the way in Baltimore, boss."

"It'll take you both around the same amount of time to get to Quantico. Have him meet you there, you get Darklin, have him pick up Chike."

"Well, why can't I just take DiNozzo?"

Jethro moved back till he stood in Stan's personal space. "Is there a problem, Stan?"

Stan wasn't like DiNozzo. If Jethro did this with the Baltimore cop, he would have given him crap and made a joke. Stan knew better. He worked with Jethro for over four years, he learned to anticipate his boss' every move, and understood that you didn't question him when he gave you an order.

"No boss."

Jethro grinned. "Good." He turned around and headed into the observation room.

What he saw shocked him even more. Corporal McCane was a young, good looking Marine with brown hair. His eyes were on the table, so Jethro couldn't be sure what color they were. But that wasn't what surprised him. It was the man's bulk. He must have been three hundred pounds in pure muscle. Jethro was a damn good fighter, but even he would have had a hard time fighting this guy.

How the hell did DiNozzo best him?

The cop chose that moment to walk in the room. He was empty handed, but he looked happy about something.

"Thank God," he said as he shut the door. "For a second I was afraid I would never find this place. I felt like I was going through a maze. Back in Baltimore, all I really have to do is walk through one door and I find where I gotta be. It's a nice system." He sat down.

Jethro hated himself. He should have handled the interrogation. Damn it, DiNozzo was good at the grunt work, but he had never seen him question a suspect—he didn't count the butcher shop as an interrogation. Just how bad would the young man be?

McCane wasn't looking at him. His eyes still glued to the table. DiNozzo made a noise in the back of his throat. "Wanna hear a story?"

Jethro was ready to smack his head against the glass.

McCane finally looked up, his face a mask of confusion. "What?"

"Come on, it's a good one. See, about," DiNozzo paused, "three weeks ago, my partner and I were working this case. Seemed simple enough at the time. Single homicide. Twenty-four year old male killed in his apartment. Not even kidding, it was the easiest confession I ever got. I went to talk to the guy's buddy. And he's jittery, angry. I asked him one question. Literally, one question! "Where were you?" And what happens?" He barked with laughter. "He decked me! Just completely out of random."

McCane shook his head, completely annoyed. "What the hell does that have to do with me?"

DiNozzo leaned forward. Jethro could hear the smirk in his voice. "He did it. He hit me out of fear." He sat back, kicking his legs on the table. "Now there is a point to that, Corporal. I promise."

McCane shrugged, silently saying, "what?"

"You hit me, and you can't figure that out?"

McCane tried to jump up, but he was handcuffed to the chair. DiNozzo pulled his legs off the table and jumped up himself. Jethro was rather surprised that he could move that quickly.

"Screw you!"

"You were the one who said he was guilty. But you never denied killing him. When I asked you about that, you attacked me. What would that say to you?"

"I didn't touch him!"

"You really expect me to believe that?" DiNozzo laughed. "Come on! You see the bruises?" He pointed to his face.

McCane huffed. "Alright." He sat back down. Seconds later, DiNozzo followed. "You want the truth?"

"No, Corporal, I want you to lie to me some more," he said with only a small hint of sarcasm.

"I wanted to find Jamie Taylor. And I did want him dead," he shook his head, "but I never got close. I had no idea where to look."

"You think about hiring someone?"

"I did. He said that he couldn't find him. As far as I was concerned, Jamie Taylor just disappeared off the face of the earth."

DiNozzo sat for a while, completely silent. He leaned back again and crossed his arms over his chest. Jethro hoped that he was thinking the same thing.

"This P.I. have a name?" He finally asked.

"Tatum. Markus Tatum."

DiNozzo rose to his feet and left the room. Jethro exited observation to meet him in the hallway. He forced back the grin. "Not bad, DiNozzo."

DiNozzo smiled wide. "Appreciate that, Gibbs."

"You can use Burley's computer. I wanna know everything about Tatum in an hour."

"Where's Burley?"

"Went up to Quantico to pick up Julia Chike and Corporal Darklin."

DiNozzo nodded. "You think that Tatum lied to McCane? Think he found Jamie?"

"Possibly. What would his motive be?" He already had an answer, but he wanted to make sure that DiNozzo figured something out.

He shook his head. "Somebody else could have paid him more to lie to McCane and deliver Jamie to them instead."

Jethro nodded. "Find out." He turned and started walking back towards the bull pen.

Seconds later, he felt DiNozzo run to catch up to him. "Please don't leave me here, Gibbs. I meant what I said about getting lost."

Jethro smiled. "DiNozzo, never go on a carrier."

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**Still can't think of anything fun to say, so... well, talk to me!**

**Bob**


	12. Eleven

**Well I am officially back from vacation(We left at four o clock this morning, it was miserable), so to celebrate, Here is chapter 11! Things are really starting to heat up now. Oh, and UnstoppableForce *Gibbsslap* That's for the comment about me being lost for words!**

**Now that I got that moment of violence out of my system, it's question time. Out of curiosity, how do you think that Tony's mother died? Any and all possibilities welcome. And do you think we'll ever figure out how she died? Unless of course it was already revealed and I just missed it. If that's the case, feel free to ignore this question.**

**And now, onward!**

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Eleven

Jethro watched DiNozzo across the bullpen. The man had truly terrible typing skills. Jethro hated technology with a fiery passion, but watching somebody as young as DiNozzo two finger type a single word per minute was just… sad.

After another few minutes, DiNozzo picked up Burley's phone. Jethro waited for an update, but DiNozzo didn't look like he was even paying attention to him. "Hi, this is Detective DiNozzo from Baltimore P.D. Is," he paused, his eyes closing as he tried to suppress a laugh, "Anita Hooker there?" He was able to cover his mouth just in time before he choked a laugh out.

"Yes, I'll hold," he mumbled through his hand.

Jethro scratched his chin. His hand was blocking his own grin. True, it was just a name, but he couldn't help feeling bad for a woman named Anita Hooker. That rated right up there with Seymour Butts.

"Miss Hooker!" DiNozzo finally uncovered his mouth. "Hi, I'm Detective DiNozzo, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions?" He leaned back in Burley's seat, waiting for a reply. "Well, to be honest, a face to face meeting would be better."

That was good. If DiNozzo took this woman's statement over the phone, then Jethro would have to smack him again. Granted, he did owe the young man for that slap he gave to Jethro earlier. But that could wait.

"Well, if you could meet me at the Navy Yard in Washington?" DiNozzo nodded. "Yeah, I'm currently working a case with NCIS." He smirked. "The Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Yeah, if I wasn't a cop I wouldn't know what they were either." Jethro rolled his eyes while DiNozzo laughed. "That's great. I will see you tomorrow at ten, then." He hung up.

Jethro waited for DiNozzo to talk, to tell him what the hell that was about and what it had to do with the case. But the man wasn't saying a word. He went back to his obnoxiously slow typing.

Finally, Jethro got fed up. "Hey!" He yelled.

DiNozzo barely spared him a glance. "Yes Gibbs?"

"What was that about?"

The younger man stood up from Burley's desk and crossed the room. Jethro considered that a good thing. He knew not to just shout across the bullpen. "Anita Hooker is an old client of Mr. Tatum. I'm meeting her tomorrow to see if she has the same negative things to say about his services."

Jethro shook his head. "Why?"

DiNozzo smiled. "How much do Marines make?"

Jethro shrugged. "Depends on rank and years of service."

DiNozzo rolled his eyes. "McCane's a corporal, served for four years in a six year hitch."

"Less than two thousand a month."

"Seriously?" He sounded very appalled by that number. "I make more."

"Your point, DiNozzo?" Jethro asked exasperatedly.

The cop rolled his eyes. "Anita Hooker, and yes that is her actual name," he chuckled again, but stopped when he saw Jethro's glare. "Sorry. She's a trust fund baby. Has a couple million saved up in the bank. Now, she paid Marcus Tatum fifty grand, upfront, for her job."

It all clicked into place. "Tatum either took all her money and ran too—"

DiNozzo finished for him. "Or he took McCane's measly money and split." He grinned widely, far too proud of himself.

"Or," Jethro started for no other reason than to wipe that grin off his damn face. "He just couldn't find Jamie."

DiNozzo scoffed. "I found Jamie outside my apartment, how hard could it be for a P.I. to locate the kid?"

"I couldn't find him."

The young cop actually had the nerve to look surprised. "Are you actually admitting that? Out loud? Did Hell just freeze over, or did I stumble into an alternate universe?"

"Keep talking like that and I'll knock you into another universe."

DiNozzo rolled his eyes. "I pulled Tatum's phone records. He made three calls from Baltimore a month ago. Which is the same time that McCane hired him. What was he doing in Baltimore if it wasn't tracking down Jamie Taylor? And if he found him…" he trailed off.

Jethro stood up. He hated to admit it, but the kid definitely had a point. "What happened to make him run?" He stared at the plasma screen. Marcus Tatum's driver's license picture stared back at him. "That's good work."

"Thanks Gibbs."

He turned around and glared. "You find Tatum yet?"

He watched as the proud grin faded from DiNozzo's face. Cruel? Maybe a little, but DiNozzo had a big enough ego as it was, Jethro wasn't about to let it get any bigger.

"Still working on it. All three of his phones have been disconnected."

"Track his movements." Jethro moved back to his desk.

"Already did, Gibbs." Jethro whirled back around at DiNozzo's words. "The guy hasn't used a credit card or jumped on a highway in three weeks. He's practically disappeared off the face of the earth."

Well that was interesting. What could have happened to make a man disappear like that? "Go check out his home." He sat down in his chair. He resisted the urge to wipe his tired face.

"By myself?"

That made him jump back up. "Is there a problem with that? Or are you just completely incapable of questioning somebody alone?"

DiNozzo stepped forward till he was mere inches from Jethro. "Is there a reason you insist on questioning everything that I do?" He was seething, but he managed to keep his voice low. "I know I screwed up with Jamie, but I've also been the one to figure out most of the case so far. Something that you have clearly failed to do, or I wouldn't be here in the first place!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jethro reared back and slapped him in the back of the head. DiNozzo huffed. "I'm tired and in pain and I'm not in the mood to deal with your crap."

Jethro sighed heavily. He knew that all of that was true. And he could believe that DiNozzo was in pain. You don't get into a fight with a Marine and not come out feeling sore. He looked out the picture windows at the edge of the bullpen. The sky turned pink as the sun slowly settled in for the night. It had been a long day, and even longer for DiNozzo. Jethro was at least able to sleep last night. DiNozzo was working on a half hour, while trying to sober up.

"When you're done with Tatum's place, go to a hotel, get some sleep. I'll pay." He didn't know why he offered that. He wasn't thinking of offering it, but apparently his mouth had ideas of its own.

The anger slowly dimmed from DiNozzo's eyes. In its place was relief, and a sly smirk. "I prefer my own bed, _boss_." He stepped away and started heading for the elevators.

Jethro felt a pang in his chest. "You used to not care."

DiNozzo shrugged, his back still to the older man. "People change." The elevator arrived and DiNozzo slid in between the mass of people.

Jethro sat down with a huff. DiNozzo didn't change for no reason. And Jethro put that off for long enough. He should have known better. But he wanted to believe that the man would be ok. Hell, he wanted to believe that he hadn't failed.

But he did. He failed to protect DiNozzo. Jethro was virtually over what had happened back in February. True, it hurt to think about, but what was taking to longest to fade was his guilt. He couldn't save DiNozzo. He failed him.

As he booted up his computer he made the decision. He wasn't going to fail him again.

**.**

Dennis tried to avoid acting like a tourist as he drove onto the Marine base. He was here for a job, he had to be professional. He showed the guard out front his badge, and—unfortunately—had to ask for directions.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lea stare around at everything, a look of awe on her young face. Dennis tried to hide the smirk, but to no avail. Damn it, he could never stay mad at her.

"So when I go pick up Julia Chike, you're not gonna say a word, right?"

Lea rolled her eyes. "Den, I have picked up hookers before. It's pretty much in a beat cop's job description."

"She isn't just a hooker, Lea. She's also the witness in a homicide."

She was quiet for a moment, although he did notice that she rolled her eyes again. "So," she stared. "We're meeting Stan here, right?"

He glared at her, but otherwise didn't answer.

She smiled brightly at him. "Does this mean I get to meet him?"

He shook his head. "What part of 'over' did you miss the first time I said it?"

"I think it was the 'V.' Those always screw me up. I mean, every time I see a 'V' I automatically think of one your 'W's.'" She paused as she scratched her head. "Come to think of it, why is called a double '_U_'? I mean, it actually looks more like a 'V'. Why isn't it called a double 'V' instead?"

"How did you pass your psych evaluation?"

"Setley thought that my annoying attention to detail would help me be a better cop. Although I often wonder how you managed to get into the Academy. Did you sleep with the recruiting officer?"

He couldn't stop the grin on his face. "Tony did."

She scoffed. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

He ignored that when he saw the black sedan with Government Issued plates in front of him. That must have been Stan. Lea automatically perked up as the blonde man climbed out of the car. "Ooh, is that him? He's a cutie. And definitely a much better fit for you than what's his name."

"Stop talking, or so help me." He pulled the car over and put it in park.

Lea jumped out of the car before he even pulled the key out. He sighed heavily. This was definitely not good.

"Agent Burley?" She sounded professional, but Dennis still didn't trust her.

"Yeah," Stan said, extending his arm to shake her hand. "And you are?"

Lea took it and gave it a firm shake. "Officer Adley Morgan. I'm Dennis' sister."

"Oh," Stan brightened, his face breaking out in a bright smile. Dennis felt something deep in his chest at the sight, but he couldn't figure out what it was. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Lea answered. She stepped back and suddenly she was all business. "So, what's the game plan?" She crossed her arms behind her back and stood at attention. Dennis shook his head.

Stan just stared at her for a few moments before he finally answered. "Well, um, I'm gonna go and pick up Corporal Darklin, and you and Den…" he trailed off. After a second he cleared his throat and continued. "Detective Morgan can pick up Julia Chike."

Lea nodded. "Will we drive back to Washington together, or are we going to meet back up there?"

The blonde man smiled. "I would say we should drive back together. My boss would appreciate it if we arrived at the same time."

"And what's our rendezvous point?"

Stan took a moment to consider that. "How about right outside the gate. That good?"

Lea nodded again, only this time sharper. "Yes sir."

Stan turned to Dennis with a questioning smirk on his face. Dennis just shook his head. He didn't know what else to do. There were just some things he didn't know how to describe. His little sister was one of them.

She turned back and started walking towards the car. Stan slid in behind the wheel of his vehicle and drove off. Dennis climbed back in his seat and drove off for the right address.

He kept glancing at his sister, her face was pressed against the window, trying to absorb as much scenery as she could. The sun was gone and the streets lights were on, giving the homes an almost fantastical glow.

He turned onto 4th Avenue before Lea finally spoke again. "He seems nice."

"He is nice." That was the first thing that attracted Dennis to the older man.

He stopped the car. Lea turned to him as she opened her door, she was trying to look blank, but her smugness was showing through her mask. "He deserves far better than you."

Dennis sighed angrily as he stepped out of the car once more. "Can we stop talking about my personal life for like, five seconds, maybe?"

"Well, I would, except it's been so long since you've had one." She smiled brightly at him. "I'm making up for lost times."

With a shake of his head, he shoved her in the shoulder and continued walking up the path. Before he knocked on the door he took a deep breath to remind himself that he was here for a job. He wasn't taking a trip with his baby sister. He was with a fellow cop to pick up a witness.

The first time he knocked he got no answer. He checked his watch. It was late, but not that late. Besides, weren't prostitutes nocturnal by nature?

He tried knocking again, but he heard nothing from inside the house. No feet moving towards the door, not even a television.

"Maybe she's working," Lea suggested.

Dennis' gut started churning. He didn't know why, but as a cop he learned to always trust his gut. He turned to his sister. "You still know how to pick locks?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Tony taught me when I was ten, why would I forget something like that?"

He stepped out of the way so she could do her magic. "I'm ignoring that for time purposes."

She crouched down so she was eye level with the lock. "Ignore away."

Thirty-two seconds. That was how long it took her to break through the lock. She huffed. "I'm getting rusty."

Ignoring that as well, Dennis pulled out his gun and turned the door handle. Slowly he stepped inside the house. He turned around to see Lea also had her gun drawn. "You check that half." He pointed towards the kitchen. Lea nodded and slowly made her way through the halls.

Dennis went straight into the living room. _Damn_. He walked into one hell of a scene.

A woman—probably Julia Chike—lay face down on the ground in a pool of blood. What little clothes she wore were torn. He saw bruising cover half her body, but the one that stood out was the bruise around her ankle. Something broke it.

The room was completely trashed. Julia must have put up a pretty decent fight, considering her injuries.

"Clear!" He heard Lea shout from some other part of the house.

He shouted it back, his eyes glued to the body. He heard footsteps move into the room. They stopped a few feet away from him.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah," he replied, pulling out his cell phone. He hit the speed dial number one. Tony answered after only one ring.

"DiNozzo."

"We got a problem. Julia Chike's been murdered."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, well it gets worse. Gibbs sent me to pick up a P.I. who was hired a few weeks ago to find Jamie."

Dennis scrunched his eyebrows together. How was that worse than finding a key witness bludgeoned to death on the living room floor in a house in Quantico? "What'd you find?"

"A dead body. The P.I. was killed too."

Yeah, that made things worse.

* * *

**See? Told you things were heating up. Two murders in one chapter. Now that's hinky. Any ideas what's going on? Any idea who the killer might be? Let me know, talk to me!**

**Bob**


	13. Twelve

**Ok, I would first like to say that I am very sorry that it's taken me so long to get this up. I was working on something else, and I wanted to get that done before I posted this because I haven't been able to write in a while. So I am sorry that I kept you waiting so long. But can I just say, that this chapter is like, pretty dang long. At least nine pages, it's the longest chapter I have so far. **

**On a bright note (well, for me) I am going to be a godmother again! My best friend is pregnant yet again (she got married a week ago) and her new husband is going to be shipping off to the Navy, for a good chunk of her pregnancy. Which means I'm stuck with her. It's unfair, true, but I get to go listen to the baby's heartbeat next month!**

**I just want to point something out. Dennis' sister appears in this chapter as well, but, to avoid confusion with referring to her by her last name, Gibbs refers to her by her first name. Her full first name, which is Adley. She's the same character as Lea, as Dennis calls her, and Ley, as Tony calls her. Just want to avoid any and all confusion.**

**I'll shut up now.**

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Twelve

After he got off the phone with Denny, the first person that Tony called was Gibbs. He expected to get yelled at again. Needless to say he was surprised when all the older man did was sigh heavily and tell him to sit on the scene until he got there.

Tony waited outside. He guesstimated that Tatum had been dead for a couple of weeks, which meant that he smelled. Terribly. There really was no word to describe just how badly that man smelled. Every time he tried, he almost upchucked.

Gibbs showed up not long after. Tony rubbed at his tired eyes and went out to meet him. He was alone.

"When's CSU gonna be here?"

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow. "CSU?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Crime scene unit. They're the guys who bag and tag and find all of the evidence," he paused at Gibbs' glare, "you already knew that."

Gibbs nodded.

"You don't have a crime scene unit."

Gibbs shook his head.

Tony groaned. "Are you saying that we have to go through this entire crime scene alone?"

"Nah, we won't be alone." Tony almost breathed a sigh of relief when Gibbs continued. "The M.E. will be here in a couple of minutes."

"How did I get stuck with you? Again?" He pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and went back inside, moaning and groaning the entire time. He was promised sleep. Actual sleep, and now, by the time they finished processing the scene, it'd be about one in the morning, and he would have to add at least an hour driving time to make it back to his apartment. And knowing Gibbs, he'd want an early start tomorrow morning. He was looking at maybe ten minutes of sleep.

He sighed heavily. "You know any good hotels in the area?"

Gibbs just smiled.

Tony glared as he entered the living room. "I'm holding you to that offer you know. About you paying for my stay."

"Yeah," Gibbs crouched down next to the body, "I figured you would."

They worked out a system pretty quickly. Gibbs would bag and tag the evidence while Tony would take all the required photographs and crime scene sketches. Tony wasn't much of an artist. Actually he was still drawing stick figures. Although he was killer at those lines and circles. But it didn't really matter. He didn't need to be Rembrandt in order to draw a basic crime scene sketch.

Ducky never actually showed up, his assistant did. Tony barely remembered Gerald. He was a man of few words, worse than Gibbs. He was a tall black man, young, probably around Tony's age or so. He was a pretty good guy, at least Tony assumed so. He had never heard him utter more than two words at any given time.

"Time of death, Gerald?" Gibbs asked as he crouched down next to the body.

Gerald just looked at him skeptically. Then he looked down at the body. The man's flesh was seriously decayed, his eyes were gone. What used to be a man was now a leathery, mushy… blob that Tony didn't know how to properly describe. Nor did he really want to.

"I won't know that until I get him back for Dr. Mallard, Agent Gibbs," Gerald said.

Gibbs sighed. He stood up and started moving around the living room again. Tony watched from his place against the wall. He checked his watch. It was pushing midnight already. Damn it, he was tired. He needed sleep. Real sleep, not some little half an hour nap that got interrupted with a kick and pounding headache.

He was right. They didn't finish up the scene until one in the morning. Gibbs was just as anal as Tony remembered him, and made him go over everything three times in a row before he was satisfied that they didn't miss anything. Tony had to physically hold himself back from pelting Gibbs in the back of the head with his camera.

He was finally able to pull himself away from Tatum's house, carrying boxes and boxes of evidence with him. By himself, of course, because Gibbs apparently had a bad back and he couldn't do all that grunt work.

"Is this the kind of treatment I would have gotten if I took that job offer?" He finally asked as he loaded the last box into the back of Gibbs' official NCIS truck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gerald perk up at that.

Gibbs just shrugged. "All Probies gotta schlep for the team. Burley had to do it, Langer had to do it. Hell, even I had to do it."

Tony just grunted. "Yeah, except I'm not a Probie. I don't even work for you!"

Gibbs walked towards the driver's side door. "You do for this case." Tony could literally hear the grin in his voice.

Tony slammed the door to the truck before heading over to his car. His anger was still rolling through him. He was getting sick and tired of being around the older man. Either he was pissed off and growling out threats and orders, or he was completely flippant.

Gibbs called out to him just as he opened his door. "Follow me!"

"Was planning on it!" He said it harsher than he had intended.

He started the car and waited a few seconds for Gibbs to pull out in front of him. Oddly enough, the man didn't push eighty. He was staying at a rather calm pace of sixty-five miles an hour. Granted the speed limit was thirty, but at least he had slowed down a little bit.

The further they drove, Tony started to realize they were going the wrong way. He wasn't all that familiar with the city, but he knew the way back to the Navy Yard. It should have been the same route that he took to get to Tatum's house, only in reverse. But this was definitely not leading them back to NCIS.

It didn't register in his exhausted brain until they pulled over that Gibbs told him to get some rest. The fed had led them to a hotel.

It was a decent looking place, it didn't look too pricey, but it also wasn't rundown either. It was a good mixture.

He felt waves of guilt course through him as he climbed out of his vehicle. Gibbs was already on the sidewalk, waiting for him. Tony slowly approached, keeping his head down. "Sorry, about, well…" he trailed off. He didn't know how best to phrase the apology. "Being an ass?"

Gibbs smirked at him. "Rule six."

It took him a second to remember what that meant. Back in February, Gibbs shoved so many rules at him that he had a hard time keeping track of them all. Then it clicked. "Never apologize, it's a sign of weakness."

Gibbs nodded. He pushed off the wall and headed inside. Tony followed.

The lobby was neatly decorated with potted silk plants and teal paint. The carpeting was thin and rather tough. The clerk's desk took up an entire wall. At this time of night, there was only one person around. He was an older fellow with sagging sad eyes and a pot belly. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk. When Tony and Gibbs approached, he begrudgingly sat up straighter.

"Hello, how may I be of service tonight?" His voice was smooth and rather tight. And he spoke with a fake sincerity that would have made any snoot proud.

"I'd like to rent a room," said Gibbs, casually leaning on the desk. At some point he pulled out his wallet and grabbed his credit card. Tony lagged back with his hands in his pockets.

The portly clerk looked from Gibbs to Tony and back again. Now his smile was even more forced than before. Tony bit back a grin. "Would you like a double, single, or a suite, sir?"

"Single's fine." He impatiently tapped his card on the desk as the clerk typed incessantly on his keyboard.

"And how long will you be staying with us?" Again, he looked between Tony and Gibbs.

The older agent looked behind him at Tony with a questioning stare. Tony responded with a shrug. Gibbs turned back to the clerk. "Can we just play that by ear?"

Tony could have sworn that he saw the man cringe. "Of course sir." He typed a few more things. "Now, I'll need a credit," before he could say _card_, Gibbs thrust out his arm and handed the man his MasterCard. He smiled again before he took it and swiped it through the computer.

A few seconds later, they were handed two key cards. Gibbs stared down at his for a split second before arching an eyebrow at Tony. The younger man simply shrugged.

"Thank you, sir, and I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

Gibbs sent the man one last look before he took off for the elevator, Tony followed close behind. But before he was out of the lobby, he sent the clerk a sly wink. The man sneered as he propped his feet back on the desk. Tony smiled brightly.

Once the doors slid shut on them, Gibbs gave Tony a curious look. "Why would he think that we're here together?"

"Maybe because you booked a single room and asked me about how long you'd need it?" He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Oddly enough, this greatly amused him.

Gibbs scoffed. "I'd have to be pretty desperate to get a hotel room with you."

Tony turned to him, his eyebrows raised in indignation. "You? What about me? I could have anyone I wanted, you really think I'd hook up with someone your—"

Gibbs cut him off, "Finish that sentence, and I will make you walk back to Baltimore when this is over. In cement shoes."

The elevator pinged before the door opened on the third floor. Gibbs strode out first, moving with a level of confidence.

Tony rolled his head around as he followed. "With your charming personality and romantic side. I mean, seriously, Gibbs," he shook his head as he wiped a fake tear out of his eye, "you had me at 'hello.'"

A cleaning lady walked past them on her way to the elevator. She turned and gave them a shocked look. Tony winked at her while simultaneously clicking his tongue. She walked faster.

Gibbs was staring at him again. Tony rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I forgot you only have one TV. Where is that again?"

"My basement."

Tony smiled as he snapped his fingers. "That's it!" He shook his head. "You know, I don't know how you live, Gibbs."

The agent slid his key through the lock and opened the door, a small grin playing on his lips. "Peacefully." He stepped into the room.

Tony shook his head before following.

The room was decent. One double bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in a thin floral comforter. The wallpaper was white. Like every other hotel room in the country, there was a nightstand, a dresser and a small television. It was a pretty basic room. Not that Tony needed much else. He just needed the place to sleep.

Eyeing the bed he realized just how exhausted he was. His body was sore, his head was throbbing. He could use a really good night's rest.

But Gibbs hadn't left yet.

Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced back and forth on his feet. "So, um," He clicked his tongue. "Thanks for the room. I'd uh, really like to get some shuteye now."

Gibbs still didn't budge. "We need to talk."

Tony sighed heavily. "Whatever it is, it can wait."

"No." Gibbs stepped closer. "No it can't."

Tony was confused. He had no idea what Gibbs wanted to talk about. If it was about the case, then it probably should wait until he had a few hours of sleep. Otherwise he wasn't sure he'd make a lot of sense. Or did he want to talk about his fight with McCane?

"We need to talk about what happened at the butcher shop."

That was completely unexpected.

"No," Tony started. "No, we really don't."

Gibbs took another step forward. "Yes, we really do." He moved until he was in Tony's personal space again. Only this time, he wasn't glaring. His eyes were… sad.

"What happened, back then…" he trailed off.

Tony huffed. Already he could feel the anger well inside of him. "I'm tired, and I'd really like to go to bed, _Sir_." He knew that Gibbs hated to be called 'sir,' and he made sure to put extra malice into that word.

He moved around the older man while taking off his jacket. Gibbs grabbed his wrist. Tony froze.

Gibbs' fingers slowly traced the scars that circled his skin. Tony closed his eyes and willed the memories away. "You weren't alone back then, Tony," Gibbs said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And you're not alone now."

Tony opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs in shock. Gibbs called him _Tony_. He never called him by his first name. It should have warmed him, that Gibbs was treating him like a human being for once. But all it did was make him angrier.

He ripped his hand out of Gibbs' grasp and moved into the older man's personal space. "If I want a damn pep talk, then I'll ask for one, Agent Gibbs. Now I appreciate you renting a room for me. But I would really like to get to sleep, if that isn't too much trouble, _sir_."

He didn't know what kind of reaction he would get out of the older man. Hell, he wasn't sure what reaction he _wanted _out of Gibbs either. Regardless, Gibbs' expression never changed. Tony never even saw a flash of anger hit the man's face.

"I'm not gonna keep your secret any longer, DiNozzo."

Tony felt the blood drain out of his face.

"I'm not helping you by pretending that it never happened."

"I didn't ask for help!"

"You didn't have to. You're always angry—"

Tony cut him off. "What? And you're a ball of sunshine?"

Gibbs sighed heavily. Tony could see how much the man wanted to raise his voice, but he never talked over a whisper, despite how loud Tony was getting. "You've changed."

"People change!"

"You're _always_ angry, you snap at everything."

"So it's ok for you, but not for me?"

Gibbs continued as if he never said anything. "You've barely made a pass at any woman, and you don't joke around as much."

Tony chuckled bitterly. "Let me guess this straight, you're mad because I'm growing up?"

Gibbs took a second to answer. "This isn't growing up, Tony. You're hiding, and I'm not going to help you do it anymore. I don't care who you tell, or how much you tell them. But by the end of this case, I expect you to," he paused, "say the words."

Tony sighed heavily through his nose. "And if I don't?"

"Then I'll do it for you."

"You can't do that!"

Gibbs circled around and started walking for the door. "You better get some sleep. It might be the only chance you get for a while." He was out of the room before Tony could so much as blink.

He slowly sat down on the bed, no longer remotely tired. Funny how Gibbs managed to do that to him.

He sighed again as he ran a hand down his face. He didn't want to talk about this. It was over, and the only thing he wanted to do was put it behind him. But the old bastard just wouldn't let him do that.

Fury consumed him, bubbled up in his chest till he needed to explode. Standing back up, he grabbed the first hard object he found—the TV remote—and chucked it at the door, screaming at the top of his lungs.

The remote landed on the floor in a heap of pieces, but he didn't stop screaming. He didn't stop even after his voice grew hoarse and his throat hurt. He didn't stop until he ran out of breath.

He plopped back down on the bed, his hands moving to cover his face. His eyes were wet, but he refused to acknowledge it.

**.**

A part of Jethro wanted to turn back around when he heard the scream and the thud, but he kept his feet moving forward. He knew that he was harsh with the younger man, but he wasn't going to back down. He hid the truth for long enough. Now it was time for both of them to face the music.

On his way out of the hotel he made sure to wink at the man sitting at the front desk. The portly bastard just sneered at him. It made Jethro smile.

He climbed into the truck and headed back to the Navy Yard. Once he was there he checked the evidence in the garage and headed back upstairs. When he made it to the bullpen, he found that Stan, Morgan and a young woman were already there.

Stan turned as he walked in. For a second, Jethro saw him tense. "Hey boss."

"Where's Corporal Darklin?" He asked as he stepped closer to the group.

"Interrogation room two. And Julia Chike and Marcus Tatum are down with Ducky already." It sounded simple, but Jethro knew that was a loaded statement. He wanted to know why it took so long for Jethro to get back. He also knew that Stan wanted to question him, but he wouldn't.

"Where's Tony?" Morgan asked, looking towards the elevator as if expecting the young man to walk out.

"Hotel. He's getting a couple hours of sleep." Hopefully.

Morgan turned to him, anger rising in his face. "He's off taking a nap while the rest of us are working our asses off?"

Jethro turned to him. Keeping his face impassive, he said, "I ordered him to." That shut the cop up.

The young girl watched the exchange with curiosity and shock. Jethro thought that she looked familiar. Dark hair that came to her shoulders, dark brown eyes, a dark blue, fitting police uniform. But what really caught his attention about her features was her right ear. It looked like somebody shot a bullet through it. It dipped inward, and the skin rippled where it had healed over.

She was Morgan's sister.

"Officer Morgan?" He asked.

She turned to him and nodded. "Adley. Or Lea, if you prefer." She held her hand out for him, which he took. "It's nice to see you again, Agent Gibbs."

He nodded. "You too."

"You two know each other?" Stan asked.

Adley nodded. "We met briefly on your last shared case."

Jethro watched her face go from impassive to pained. He wondered for a moment just how much she knew about that case.

He turned to Morgan. "Walk me through it. What'd you find at Chike's place?"

At first, Morgan didn't answer. He just kept glaring at Jethro, his teeth ground together. The other two watched in shock.

"Julia Chike was killed in her living room," The younger Morgan said. Her brother turned his glare on her, but she ignored it. "It was a bloodbath. According to Dr. Mallard, she had only been dead for about two hours."

"Beating looked most likely, boss," Stan interjected.

"You canvas?" Jethro glared at his agent.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Yes, boss. Covered the neighbors. Most claimed not to hear anything."

"And the ones who did didn't do anything," Adley finished with a bob of her head. "You'd think that because it's a Marine base somebody would have reacted."

"Why didn't they?"

"Working girl," Morgan finally spoke. "They heard her screaming, they figured she was working."

Jethro was growing angrier the more he heard. A woman was savagely beaten, but all those damn pompous Marine wives refused to look past their own personal biases to help her. Jethro couldn't have been more appalled. "What about Corporal Darklin?" He finally asked.

Stan cleared his throat. "Alive. And pissed. She wasn't exactly thrilled about being pulled out of her house to come sit at NCIS for the night."

Jethro smiled. _Good_, he thought. "Stan, you handle the interview. Morgan, go down to Abby's lab." He didn't want to send the cop down to see Abby. But she seemed to like him, so it wasn't too terrible. Although he still couldn't figure out why she liked him. "Go over everything that you bagged and tagged at Chike's." He started to walk away, but stopped when he thought of something else. "And find out who really lives there."

He started walking again. He needed coffee. It had been a long day and it was gonna be an even longer night. A good cup of joe was exactly what he needed right now.

He heard footsteps running towards him. ""There's something else, Agent Gibbs." Adley said as she fell into step next to him.

Jethro sighed heavily before he turned to her. All he really wanted right now was coffee, but evidently he wasn't going to get that just yet. "What?"

She took a small step back, her face full of shock. It took her a full minute before she was able to compose herself. "A friend of Jamie Taylor's told us that he witnessed a murder."

Jethro rolled his eyes and started walking again. "Report it to your superiors." Unless he saw a Sailor or Marine get murdered, it wasn't Jethro's jurisdiction.

"Sir, you misunderstood," Adley called after him. "It wasn't the friend who saw the murder. It was Jamie."

Jethro stopped again. He turned around and saw the girl, still slightly fidgety, but trying to appear strong. He had to give her credit for that. He knew that she was young, but someday, she'd probably make a good investigator.

He listened to the story that she told him. Apparently the real Gloria Smith's death wasn't accidental. It was one more puzzle piece, and Jethro had no idea where it was supposed to fit. He didn't even know what the completed puzzle was supposed to look like.

"That's good work." He started walking towards the elevator again. His head was pounding.

Once again, Adley followed him. "Also—"

He cut her off again, only this time with a groan. "What? What else did you find out? How much worse could this mess possibly get?"

She stared at him with her jaw dropped as he ranted. After he finally stopped, she swallowed a lump in her throat before speaking again. "The house belongs to a Private First Class Sam Huntington. He's currently out of town. His grandmother's sick, so he took leave to be with her." She looked down at her shoes. "Just thought you'd like to know."

Embarrassment and guilt flooded his body, but he refused to let it show. He nodded once before he turned around again.

He heard Adley make a noise in the back of her throat. Groaning again, he turned back to face her, glaring intently.

"Is there anything you would like me to do?"

Certainly not what he had been expecting. But it made him grin a bit. "Go home, gets some rest."

"Agent Gibbs—" she started to protest before Jethro cut her off.

"You did good today, Officer Morgan. But you've done all you can do. Now go home." He dove into the elevator before she could stop him again.

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**So? Please tell me it was at least a little worth the wait? You know I'm trying to please you guys, and I would hate that after that hiatus, you guys got stuck with a lousy chapter. Please tell me it wasn't terrible at least! **

**Well, I would like to tell you what happens next chapter, but I'm not completely finished with it yet. But there is a bit of an emotional conversation between Dennis and Abby! I'm sorry to those who don't like OCs, but unfortunatley, it is a necessary conversation, both for this story, and for the series as a whole.**

**Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	14. Thirteen

**Sadly, this chapter is not as long as chapter twelve, but it's close! And I have to say, I like how it turned out, got a lot of grief coming in here. But, I have to apologize for A.) taking so long to get this up. I'm trying guys, I really am, and hopefully I can get chapter 14 up sooner than a week (it's already written), and B.) because there isn't any Gibbs/Tony interactions in this chapter. Sorry, again, but a few things have to happen between then and now.**

**On a completely unrelated note, I was very depressed recently, my best friend told me about three days ago that the Backstreet Boys are playing in Pittsburgh, next wednesday. It's heartbreaking because I can't make a roadtrip on such short notice. The last time I saw them in concert, I was fifteen, and I'm about to turn 21! Now granted,I actually got to meet Howie last concert, but still... I'll be quiet, but I was very upset about this news. Please cheer me up. Read, enjoy, maybe leave a little review. Knowing you guys like this story always puts a smile on my face.**

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Thirteen

The first thing that Dennis noticed when he walked downstairs was the incredibly loud sound booming through the hallway. The door to the forensics lab wasn't shut, so there was no barrier to drown out the noise. He felt his ears bleeding already.

He remembered Abby Scuito incredibly well even though he barely knew her. The last time that he saw her was to do a composite sketch of their two killers in February. It was a difficult experience for him.

Back then there had been no music when he entered. He just saw a panic stricken woman arguing with a scientist on loan from Baltimore, Clay. Clay was a decent guy, but he was always more partial to Tony than Dennis. Most people were.

"Abby!" He yelled above the music. At least, he thought it was music.

She swiveled around and stared at him, wide eyed and her jaw to the clean floor. Without taking her eyes off him, she picked up a remote and turned the music off. "Detective Morgan?"

He just smiled. "In the flesh." Before he could say anything else, Abby bounded towards him and wrapped her arms around him in a giant bear hug that knocked all of the air out of his body. "Abby," he gasped.

"It's so great to see you!" She squealed. "Oh my gosh, what are you even doing here?"

"Abby!" He kept trying to pull air into his lungs, but Abby wouldn't let him. "Need," gasp, "air!"

"Oh!" Abby finally pulled away and gave him a long look. "What are you doing here?" Her gaze turned skeptical.

Dennis ignored her for a while as he tried to focus on breathing again. His throat burned with the mouthfuls of air he breathed, but he didn't care. That woman had a death grip! "Didn't Gibbs tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"We're working another joint investigation."

Abby shook her head. "But Gibbs is working the Jamie Taylor case."

Dennis just nodded.

He watched as she processed everything. Slowly her skeptical gaze turned to one of complete shock. Eventually, she grew angry. "Why didn't he tell me that earlier? I mean here I am, locked up in my lab and I wasn't even told that we were working a joint investigation. With you! Of all people." She stopped mid-rant and whirled around on him. "Where's your partner?"

Dennis wasn't sure why that was important. "At a hotel, getting some shut-eye."

"But he's working the case too?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah." And just like last time, he was spending all of his time with Gibbs. Dennis had to call his sister in order to do a single canvas, but Gibbs snatched Tony almost immediately after he arrived at the precinct.

Abby groaned. "That's why! Gibbs knows that I don't like that little weasel, DiNozzo, so he didn't want to tell me that he was working with _you_ because that meant working with your partner too."

Dennis watched on as she kept rambling to herself. He shoved his hands in his pockets and cocked his head to the side. He knew from past experience that Abby could talk a lot. And for some reason, he felt that it would be best to just let her ramble on without interruption.

After maybe five minutes, she finally stopped. She turned to him with a strange look on her face. It was a mix of a glare and curiosity, and possible happiness. "So what can I do for you, detective?"

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Gibbs sent me down here. I'm supposed to go over everything from the Chike murder."

"Oh!" The strange look left her face as she bounced towards her computer. "Well, I don't really have anything just yet. I just started looking. But you can help me. You ever do forensic work before, detective?"

"Call me Dennis," he said automatically as he roamed over everything he bagged back at the house. Most of it was covered in blood. He was not looking forward to pulling it out of bags. "And no, but according to Tony I'm damn good at schlepping."

That earned a small smile from the Goth woman. "Good, I could use somebody to schlep." She moved over to the table and started grabbing items. "So, standard tests are DNA, fingerprints. Hopefully our killer left something behind. Then we can catch him—"

Dennis cut her off. "And find Jamie. Hopefully while he's still alive."

They each put on a pair of latex gloves and got to work. Abby had absolutely no problem touching and grabbing everything that was covered in blood, but Dennis was extremely grossed out. Something that Abby took great pleasure in.

"How is it that a homicide detective is this squeamish about blood?"

"Blood doesn't bother me. It's the fact that I'm touching the blood that bothers me."

"What? You've never touched blood before?" Abby chuckled as she inserted a set of prints into her computer.

Dennis shrugged. "Not like this." He picked up another bag to cut open. This one contained a high school yearbook, although he wasn't sure if it belonged to Julia Chike or Sam Huntington. It too was covered in blood.

"Well, when was the last time you touched blood then, Mr. Homicide Detective?" She was smiling.

Dennis tensed. "February." He refused to look up and look at Abby's face. She didn't say anything. Dennis supposed it could have been shock, or it could have been a sign to continue. He didn't really know. "When Tony and Gibbs came out of that butcher shop, they were both covered in blood. Most of it was Tony's." He rubbed his eyes as the images came back to his mind. "I ran up and I grabbed him when he passed out." He couldn't say anymore. That day was the scariest moment of his life.

Sure, Tony was all smiles when Dennis arrived on scene. Cracked a joke. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was falling to the ground. Gibbs had cried out in pain and fell over too. Stan and Dennis ran forward. Dennis tried feeling for a pulse in Tony's wrists, but they were too carved up.

He didn't know when, but Abby moved closer to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Her smile was now gone, in its place was a look of sadness and pain.

He shook his head. "After that day, Tony changed. He's not the same guy he used to be. He's always angry, he," he paused, unsure if he should continue. It was a detail that could very well destroy Tony's career. But for some reason, he couldn't stop the words from spewing from his mouth. "He drinks every night. Even if we have to work in the morning. He'll screw anything in a skirt. I mean," he closed his eyes and shook his head, "Tony's always been a player, but it's worse. He'll pick up women he doesn't even like just so he doesn't have to be alone. And I don't know how to help him."

He had absolutely no idea where all of this was coming from. Or why he was even sharing all of this with Abby. It wasn't like any of it had anything to do with her question. But he just couldn't stop talking.

"I'm not sure that you can," said Abby, absently rubbing soothing circles on his jacket. "Not until he wants to be helped."

Dennis chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, but that's the problem. Tony doesn't ask for help. Not until it's too late."

Abby's brow furrowed in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he already tried to kill himself once." He didn't need to look to know that her jaw had dropped.

**.**

Once again, Jethro stood in the observation room. Only this time, it was a woman who was about to be interrogated, and Burley was the one doing the questioning.

Corporal Pam Darklin was a pretty girl with big blue eyes and dark brown hair, pulled back in a tight pony-tail. She was dressed in a simple v-neck shirt. And she looked terrified. Jethro smiled. Just what did she have to be so afraid of?

Burley leaned back in his chair and stared at her. Darklin fidgeted. "Am I in trouble, sir?" She asked.

"Why would you think that, Corporal?"

She laughed nervously. "I'm sitting in an interrogation room, sir."

It was Burley's turn to chuckle. "Yeah," he leaned forward, "I'm trying to figure something out. What exactly happened the night Jamie Taylor disappeared?"

Darklin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I already told you, sir."

"Yeah, yeah you did. But I don't think you're telling me the whole truth here, Corporal."

"I don't know what you mean."

Burley shrugged. "Well, your story didn't change. At all. After four months, something should have been different. But when I talked to you earlier, you gave me a word for word recount of what you told me four months ago. Do you see my problem?"

The confusion left the Corporal's face, to be replaced with anger. "I don't know what you are implying, sir, but I assure you everything I told you was the truth."

"So you just spent a lot of time rehearsing in the four months since I last spoke to you?" Burley scoffed.

Through the window, Jethro could see Darklin turning purple with anger. "I did not hear, nor see anything that night."

"But the witness at your house says that she saw something."

"I did not have visitors that night, sir. I was alone."

Jethro clenched his fists tight. He didn't want Burley to tell Darklin that Chike was dead just yet. He wanted her to slip up first.

"Or maybe you don't want to admit that you were with a whore that night." Burley said it so nonchalantly. Darklin's jaw dropped. "A female whore, at that."

It took nearly a full minute for her to pick her jaw back up. "Are you accusing me of being gay, sir?"

Burley laughed again. "Nah. And I don't care if you are. What I care about is finding Jamie Taylor alive, and you are not leaving until you tell me everything you know."

"But I don't know anything!"

Whatever was said afterwards, Jethro didn't hear. The door to the observation room opened. He turned around to be faced with Special Agent Chris Pacci. Pacci was a bit on the shorter side with a prominent forehead and thick eyebrows set low over his eyes. He was younger than Jethro, but a couple years older than Burley. "Hey, Gibbs."

"Pacci, what do you need?" Normally Jethro liked the other man, but right now he was trying to watch an interrogation. Pacci usually knew better than to interrupt.

"There's a guy here who needs to talk to ya. Says it's about Jamie Taylor's case."

Well, that was a good reason to interrupt. "Who?"

"Corporal Graham?" Pacci shook his head. "He said it was important."

Jethro checked his watch. It was three in the morning. "Yeah," he mumbled, "it better be." He followed Pacci back to the bullpen. He was still annoyed about leaving observation. But he bit his tongue. For now. If Graham told him something useless then they were going to have problems.

Jethro had to admit, Graham looked terrible. His clothes were rumpled, as though he literally climbed out of bed and drove over here. There were thick bags under his eyes, and his normally tanned skin was white and slightly pasty.

"Corporal Graham," he said by way of greeting.

The Marine turned to him with worry filled eyes. "Is it true, you brought in Corporal Darklin?"

Jethro glared at him. "I thought you were here to talk about Jamie."

Graham rolled his eyes. "Did you bring in Corporal Darklin?" He asked desperately.

"She's in interrogation."

"On what grounds?"

Jethro just continued to glare. This was wasting time. Time that they didn't have. "Why are you here, Corporal?"

Graham eyed him for a long while. If Jethro had to guess, he was probably trying to decide if he could trust the agent. It was aggravating. He had things that he could be doing, instead of trying to earn this man's trust when Jethro barely trusted him.

He was about to turn around and head back to the observation room when Graham finally spoke. "Pam lied."

Jethro stopped in his tracks. "Lied about what?

"She wasn't home the night the Jamie disappeared."

The agent paused. His first thought was that Graham was telling him that Darklin was responsible for this mess. Was she the one who kidnapped Jamie? Did she kill Chike? Why didn't Graham come forward sooner? "How do you know?"

Graham hesitated for another moment. Jethro was about to leave again when he said, "She was with me."

Jethro shook his head. "With you?"

Graham sighed heavily. "We've been," he paused, obviously ashamed, "we've been sleeping together. For a couple of months now. She lied to protect us."

_Damn_, Jethro thought. Now it all made sense. Darklin's story hadn't changed because she was protecting her own secret. But that still didn't explain one thing. "Why did you lie to me?" When they first spoke to Graham, he claimed that he was at a retirement party for his former CO.

Graham shook his head. "I didn't. I _was_ at the party. But I left early and went to meet Pam. Nobody noticed when I slipped out."

"Why would Julia Chike say that she was with Corporal Darklin?"

The Marine shook his head. "I honestly don't know. That's something you'll have to ask her."

Well that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. "Julia Chike's dead." He watched as Graham's face filled with shock and his jaw dropped.

"When?"

"Tonight. Know why anybody would want to kill a hooker?"

Graham shrugged. "She was a prostitute, a lot of the wives didn't appreciate her staying on base. But I can't imagine any of them killing her over it."

"Would you tell me if they would?"

Graham's silence was all the answer he needed.

"Do you think she could've been murdered for talking to us about Jamie?"

"I honestly don't know, sir. But I suppose it's possible." Graham's face was full of guilt, like the death of that woman was on his shoulders only. Jethro had to agree with that.

He stepped forward into Graham's personal space. A glare on his face, he growled, "Is there anything else you failed to tell me, Corporal?"

"I'm sorry sir—"

"Don't apologize. And don't call me sir."

The Marine huffed. "I was trying to cover my ass. It was wrong, but I thought it was necessary. But I won't throw Pam under a bus like that, Agent Gibbs. I'm trying to do the right thing."

Jethro scoffed. "You should have thought about that four months ago." They were chasing leads that wouldn't go anywhere. It was a waste of time. And damn it, did it piss him off. "If Jamie dies, it's on you." He turned and walked away.

What he said could very well be a lie, but he was too pissed to care. Four people were murdered, quite possibly for the same reason. Because they knew something about Jamie.

No, that wasn't true. Gloria Smith had been killed because of what Jamie told her. He saw a woman get killed. Now whoever did that was covering his tracks.

He headed down the hallway towards Interrogation Room two. When he opened the door, Burley stopped whatever he was saying and stared at him like a confused dog. "Need you," was all Jethro said.

"I'm a little busy boss."

"Got a new lead."

Burley jerked his head back in surprise before he stood up and followed his boss out the door. Neither man said anything to the questions Darklin was throwing at them.

They headed back to the bullpen with Jethro in the lead, Burley right behind him. "What's the lead?" He asked.

Jethro shook his head. "Don't got one."

"But you just said—"

"Jamie Taylor witnessed a murder. I want to know what he saw."

"We don't really have a lot on that, boss. He saw a woman get killed."

Jethro stopped and glared at his Senior Field Agent. "Then find me every unsolved homicide near Quantico from around four months ago." If they found the killer, then maybe they'd be able to find Jamie. "Or should I start looking for another Senior Field Agent?"

Burley ground his teeth together. "Well, you already found who you're gonna replace me with." He started walking again.

Jethro grabbed his arm to stop him. "What did you just say to me?"

The blonde man gave him a glare that could have rivaled Jethro's. "Jackson told me that you already offered DiNozzo a job."

"What's your point? We're a man down."

"Yeah, well, we weren't back then. Why'd you let him go sleep?"

"He's no good to us half awake."

"He's not the only one running on coffee and adrenaline, boss." Burley kept his voice low, like a snake's hiss, even though Jethro could tell he wanted to scream.

"You wanna nap, Stan? Then take one. After DiNozzo gets back."

Burley pulled away, still seething. "Whatever happened at that butcher shop clouded your judgment, boss."

Jethro stepped forward, his rage boiling through his veins. "Would you have rather been there, Stan? You think it would have made us _closer_," he said the last word with a sneer. "Would you have liked to have been the one cuffed to a chair, unable to do anything while those bastards were stabbing you, slicing you up? Beating the hell outta ya till you could barely see your own nose?" He stopped. He was revealing too much. He could tell by the way the anger faded from Stan's eyes. In its wake was pure shock and surprise. He wasn't used to Jethro talking that much. Especially not about something so personal. Jethro never felt so embarrassed.

"Boss—"

"Find me those cases, Stan." He walked away.

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**So? What did you think? Now I'll admit, it was probably a little OOC for Gibbs to reveal that kind of thing with Stan, but he was angry, and traumatized. And he was pretty close with Stan. Ok, I'm making excuses, sorry.**

**Next chapter is all Tony. And he does something really stupid on his part. Any guesses? Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	15. Fourteen

**I hate to say it, but this chapter is a lot shorter than the other ones have been. It's also necessary for the story.**

**So, Warning: This chapter contains consensual intercourse between a main character of NCIS and an OFC. If that bothers you... well, I would suggest skipping this chapter. But do you remember when I said this story would contain both homosexual and heterosexual relationships? Well, here is the heterosexual relationship. There's nothing overly graphic, but it had to happen. I swear, there was a point!**

**Last point: This chapter is dedicated to djmichaels *hands brownies* They're double fudge.**

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Fourteen

Tony still hadn't slept. His mind wouldn't stop working. Gibbs was being an even bigger bastard than usual. And he was going to tell.

He rubbed his face for what felt like the fiftieth time. He didn't want to think about this. He just wanted to sleep. Hell, he wanted to forget everything that happened at the butcher shop. But he knew that was never going to happen.

His fingers slowly drifted across the scars on his wrists. Thin little pink lines that wrapped around his skin. He wondered if plastic surgery could get rid of those for him. They weren't particularly large. You couldn't really see them unless you were looking for them. But you could feel them.

Tony felt them all the time.

Those scars had become a daily physical reminder of what he went through back then. And he was tired of having them. He wanted them gone.

The knock at the door brought him out of his reverie. Slowly he stood up and opened the heavy wooden barrier.

Ley stood on the other side, smiling warmly at him. Her hair was frazzled and her uniform was no longer pristine,but her smile was genuine . "Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself." He shook his head. "What are you doing here?"

She gave him a look that could almost be described as pitying. "I'm here to see how you were doing."

He closed his eyes and huffed. "Not here, here. What are you doing in Washington?"

"You didn't know?" The smile left her face as she stared at him confused. "Den called me and asked me to help with a canvas."

Tony broke into a wide bright smile. "Wow, you actually got to be a real cop today, huh?"

Ley rolled her eyes. "Yeah, bite me. So are you gonna invite me in, or what?"

He pretended to think about that for a minute until she smacked him in the arm. With a chuckle, he stepped aside and she strode in and immediately plopped down on his bed. "You never answered my question."

That confused him. "What question?"

She folded her legs underneath her. "How are you doing?"

He sat down next to her. "You never actually asked that."

"The question was implied."

"No, you said you came over to see how I was doing, but you never actually asked."

"Yeah, and your clearly not smart enough to see the implications in that statement." He shoved her. She fell over, laughing. "You still didn't answer me."

He sighed heavily. "Been better."

"Wanna talk about it?"

He chuckled bitterly. "I let a sixteen year old kid get kidnapped in front of my face, and I didn't do a damn thing to stop it. I got my ass kicked by a man-mountain Marine. I'm sore, I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. I'm working with Gibbs again." He sighed. "The list goes on and on."

They were silent for a while. Ley was no doubt trying to think of ways to comfort him, but Tony was content to just quietly. She was the exact opposite of Gibbs. Female, young, happy. It was a nice change. "I thought you and Gibbs were tight."

He arched his eyebrow at her. "What the hell gave you that idea?"

"The fact that he watched over you like a hawk while you two were in the hospital."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, and he left before I woke up and never came back."

She rolled her eyes. "Ok, so he didn't start a vigil by your bedside, you knew the guy less than a week. Unless you gave him Stockholm Syndrome, I see no reason why he should have stayed. That just looks creepy. And stalker-like."

Tony chuckled. A real chuckle for once. "You ever leave high school?"

"You ever leave college, Sex Machine?"

Tony rolled his eyes. When he joined a fraternity, every new pledge was given a nickname. His just happened to be Sex Machine. Not the best name, but it could have been worse. Denny was called Herpes after one extremely embarrassing ritual.

He stared at his best friend's sister for a while before he spoke again. It had nothing to do with their earlier conversation. "Gibbs knows about my mom."

The smile disappeared. Her eyes went wide and her jaw fell to the floor. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Not all of it. He doesn't know the details." He took a deep breath. "When we were in the butcher shop, La—" he was cut off when his voice croaked. It was pathetic. He couldn't even say a damn name without freaking out. "Lance started telling us about why they picked us. My mother was brought up."

"What did he say?"

He refused to look at her. Instead he stared ahead at the television. "That I killed her." Those weren't the exact words, but they equaled the same thing in his eyes.

"Tony that wasn't your fault."

"Yeah." He stood up, putting as much distance between them that he could. "You weren't there."

"I didn't have to be." He turned back to her when she started yelling. She was getting angry now. "You were eight years old for pete's sake!"

He didn't want to talk about this anymore. His mother was another one of those conversations that he just wanted to forget. He turned around and laid his head against the wall. Exhaustion was slipping in again. He just needed to focus on that. He needed at least a couple hours of sleep.

He heard the bed creak as Ley stood up. Even before she touched his shoulder, he felt her move closer. And he smelled her. White Gardenia body spray. It was pretty.

"Tony," she paused, although he couldn't figure out why. After a while, she breathed a heavy sigh. "Do you want me to go?"

He grinned. It wasn't out of happiness. He honestly didn't know the answer to that. On the one hand, he wanted to go to bed. He wanted to forget this damn day ever happened. But on the other hand, he didn't want to be alone.

He pushed away from the wall so he could look at her. She looked about as tired as he felt.

He didn't know why he did it. Hell, he didn't even know he was doing it. He hadn't even realized he had moved until she was pushing him away from her and slapping him across the face.

"What the hell was that?" She asked, suddenly angry again.

Tony rubbed at his stinging cheek. "I'm pretty sure it was a kiss. You do know what those are, right?"

"Why did you just kiss me?"

That was a good question. "I honestly have no idea."

She huffed. "I should probably go." She started walking towards the door.

"No!" He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. "Don't go. Please." He couldn't believe he was begging, but he didn't want her to leave.

He stared down into her big brown eyes that held a glimmer of something in them. He wasn't exactly sure what, but it looked like something good.

He leaned down again and captured her mouth with his own. After a second, she wrapped her arms around his neck and roughly kissed him back, pushing him backwards.

He grabbed her head and forced his tongue into her mouth. Every instinct in him was telling him to do what he always did. Take control of the kiss. Control _her_. Drive her wild and make her beg him for more.

But then she pushed him away again. She didn't hit this time though, so that was a plus. She moved till her back hit the opposite wall, refusing to meet his eyes again.

"Don't do that again," she breathed.

He wiped at his mouth. "You kissed me back."

"That was a mistake. I can't," she shook her head and swallowed a lump in her throat, "I can't do this."

"Ley—" he started, but she cut him off.

"I gotta go." Again she started walking for the door.

And again he stopped her.

"Tony!" She struggled against him for a second, but he didn't ease up.

He pulled her in for another kiss. This time she didn't hesitate. She wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him in even closer. This time, she pushed her tongue into his awaiting mouth.

She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her hips against him. He groaned. Already he felt his body reacting.

He carried her over to the bed and gently laid her down, never once stopping the kiss. Her hands travelled all over his body till he grabbed her wrists and brought them over her head. She gasped and arched into him.

_Let me be her._

He pulled away.

Ley looked up at him, confusion and hurt written all over her face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Memories of the butcher shop flooded his mind. How he felt, defenseless, weak.

He let go of her arms and raised himself up so he straddled her hips. Her uniform was even more rumpled now than it was before. "Tony?"

He climbed off her and sat on the edge of the bed, his back turned to her. He couldn't see her face, but he could just imagine what she must be feeling right now. Used, hurt, probably a little slutty. But he couldn't look at her when he made his request. "I don't want to be in control," he said softly.

Slowly, she crawled over so she could look at him. He stared back into her confused gaze. He didn't know how to say what he wanted. This whole thing felt so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

He grabbed her hand and tugged until he got her into his lap. It had been months since he held a woman in his lap. He tried at first, but he could never get his body to react. He had more than one panic attacks trying. After a while he just gave up.

_Let me be her._

He needed this.

He reached up and kissed her again. This time much softer, gentler. His fingers reached forward and started undoing the buttons on her uniform. She nipped at his lower lip as she slowly started rocking her hips back and forth against him.

_Let me be her._

Frantic now, clothes were ripped off their bodies until all Tony was touching was soft, silky skin. Ley never lost her rhythm.

He pulled away from the kiss, but never backed up more than an inch. He felt Ley's breath tickle his lip, cooling the sweat already forming. Slowly, he ran his hands down her bare arms before settling them behind his back.

"This is your show," was all he said.

Ley ran her fingernails down his chest—across his scars—before she kissed him again.

_I could be her for you. Just let me. Let me give you what you want. Let me be her._

The more Ley moved, the further they went, the quieter the voice in his head finally got.

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**Do you at least see why this was necessary? Well, all comments welcome, and next chapter is a bit more case-y. And also a bit longer. Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	16. Fifteen

**Well, here it is folks, the next chapter. Just in time, too, I start school today. Not looking forward to that. At all.**

**Although, I just have to say, I'm a little surprised. I was expecting a lot more comments about people hating Ley. I only got one. I'm going to assume that a few of you did actually hate her, but you just didn't comment on it. I'm also glad you guys understood the necessity of the chapter.**

**And this chapter has no relationship issues going further than bromance. Just so you guys are aware. Onward!**

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Fifteen

Burley was still at his computer, looking up every unsolved murder in the area around Quantico. Jethro had no idea how long the list was at the moment. But Burley was lucky. His job as a Senator's aid got him many friends all around the area. He could get case files emailed to him from just about any police branch he wanted. It was one of the reasons that Jethro kept him around.

Meanwhile, Jethro was staring blankly at his computer screen. A part of his brain was still trying to piece together this damn puzzle that wasn't making any sense. Every time he thought he had two pieces go together, new info popped up. He didn't even have a picture to work with.

The other half of his mind was still scolding himself for letting so much slip with Burley. He knew he revealed too much earlier. He still had no idea what possessed him to talk about that. He wasn't the kind of guy who needed to talk about his feelings. Hell, according to his ex-wife he didn't have any feelings to talk about.

So why did he suddenly decide to blurt his emotions to Burley?

"Excuse me?"

He jerked his head up to see a middle aged woman with bright red hair staring at him with wide terrified eyes. She was wealthy. He could tell that by her flashy clothes and jewelry. The woman oozed money from every pore.

"Mrs. Hooker?"

Jethro was glad to see her. It was true that Tatum was most likely killed because he found Jamie, but it wasn't the only possibility. He wasn't killed the same way that Julia Chike was—single gunshot wound to the head was Jethro's best guess. There was a still a possibility that Tatum was killed by a disgruntled client.

Anita Hooker nodded. She held out her hand, palm down. "I was told I could find a Detective DiNozzo here?"

Jethro stood and took the offered hand, but he didn't kiss it. "Detective DiNozzo is out in the field right now." Behind Anita Hooker, he saw Burley perk up and stare at him curiously. "I can talk to you." He put on his most sincere smile. She was a beautiful woman. And with DiNozzo gone, his charm might actually get somewhere.

The last time they worked together, every woman they came across just fawned over the younger man like he was a sex-god on Earth. It drove Jethro crazy.

At least at first.

Anita Hooker smiled seductively at him. Apparently his charm still worked. "I guess that wouldn't be too much of a problem."

With a slight bounce in his step, Jethro led her to the conference room. It was much nicer for conversations like this than an interrogation room.

He sat down at the end of a long table while she sat to his left.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your name," she said.

Jethro smiled. "Gibbs."

"Well, Agent Gibbs," she leaned back in her seat and licked her lips, "can I ask what this is about? Detective DiNozzo didn't tell me much."

Jethro decided to get right down to business. "You hired a private investigator a few months ago, Mrs. Hooker?"

She grew flustered at that. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"The man you hired was murdered a while ago." He watched as the color drained from her pretty face. "I'm trying to figure out if it was by a client with an axe to grind."

Anita Hooker shook her head. "I can't imagine why. Mr. Tatum was very professional." She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "I hired him to find out if my husband was having an affair." She chuckled bitterly. "Pathetic."

Jethro paused for a moment. He didn't actually feel bad, but he wanted her to think he did. "Did he find something?"

She placed her lip on her fingers. "He showed me pictures of my forty-six year old husband screwing our sixteen year old babysitter."

That was unexpected. He really didn't know why. Everything was unexpected in this case. The entire day that he was working this case, nothing was simply cut and dry, black and white. But this was different than anything else. Jethro had half a mind to find Anita Hooker's husband and shoot him.

"What did you think of Mr. Tatum's work?"

She shrugged. "I wasn't particularly happy with what he found, but I wasn't angry at the messenger. And Mr. Tatum was so great about it." She smiled. "He was a good man." She looked up to meet Jethro's eyes. There was a glisten in hers. "Who would do this, Agent Gibbs? Who would kill him?"

He shook his head. "I don't really know." Yet. But if Tatum really was as great as Anita made him out to be, then he probably wasn't killed by a disgruntled client. Anita had every reason to want to shoot the messenger, but he was able to keep her calm and her anger focused on the right person.

He stood up. "Thank you, Ms. Hooker. You've been very helpful."

She scoffed as she too rose to her feet. "I don't know about that. But I appreciate the lie, Agent Gibbs."

He chuckled. He held his arm up, indicating she should lead them out the door. After she opened it, she turned to look at him again. "Please, Agent Gibbs, find out who did this."

He recognized that look. The woman was infatuated with Marcus Tatum. He must have become her knight in shining armor after her husband's sick indiscretion. He sighed heavily. _Naturally_.

He nodded. She left.

**.**

It was the first time in a long time that Dennis actually felt good. He supposed he should have felt guilty, he just told a practical stranger his best friend's biggest secret. And he told Abby everything. What Tony did, why he did it. What happened afterwards. He left nothing back. But he didn't feel guilty. He felt relieved to finally have it off his shoulders. It was a burden he was carrying his entire adult life and for the first time, the secret wasn't only his to keep. It was a great feeling.

He had sworn Abby to secrecy. Not even her beloved Gibbs could know about Tony's secret. After a lot of convincing, she finally agreed.

Talking was still difficult. Abby was no doubt still reeling from his confession and Dennis was content to sit in silence. She still hadn't turned the music back on. Dennis was doing what he did best and schlepped. Abby's definition of schlepping, unfortunately, consisted of finding finger prints in blood splatters and pulling blood for DNA analysis.

He was incredibly grateful that he was not smart enough to be a scientist.

After another few minutes, Abby finally spoke. "You know, Gibbs could—"

He cut her off. "No, Abby."

"But if anybody could help, it'd be—"

"I wasn't even supposed to tell you. Tony would have my head on a freaking stake outside his apartment if he found out I told Gibbs."

"But they like each other!"

Dennis ignored the flash of jealousy that went through him. "Tony likes a lot of people," he scoffed, "trust me on that. But that doesn't mean he wants them all to know about this."

"But—"

He spun around and glared at her. "Abby. Please drop it."

He saw all the sadness in her big eyes. He figured a part of her felt guilty. She made it pretty clear that she did not like Tony. At all. And what he told her about his past was pretty horrific. She no doubt felt bad about how she had treated him before.

He moved closer to her. "Look, Abby," he paused as he tried to think of the best way to phrase this. "I've known Tony my entire life. Ok, I know better than anyone how much of a dick he can be. And that's not going to change just because of what I told you."

"But it gives him a reason."

He rolled his eyes. "Tony was a pain in the ass long before that. It's just who he is." He sighed. "Don't treat him any differently. The last thing Tony ever wants to be is pitied."

"But—"

"Abby, please." He put on the most innocent face that he could. It was also his begging face. Although it didn't work nearly as well as Tony's. That man knew how to play people like a fiddle.

After another moment, she sighed heavily and nodded her head. He stepped away to get back to his work. He was going through the yearbook he found. Some of the pages were splattered with blood, so he was going through it, page by page, for DNA analysis. Abby was very thorough. More so than any other person Dennis ever met. It was scary sometimes.

He had just taken another sample for comparison when he noticed something on one of the pages. "Oh my god."

"What?" Abby asked from her computer. She was still scanning all fingerprints for comparison.

"I gotta go." He ran out of the lab, ignoring Abby calling after him.

He avoided the elevator. He didn't want to wait for the damn thing to get here. Instead, he slammed his body into the door to the stairwell and ran up two at a time. By the time he got to the fourth floor, his lungs were barely working and his knees were cramping. He needed to start hitting the gym again.

He pulled the door open and strode through the corridor, with purpose but still trying to catch his breath. It was definitely difficult to do.

Stan and Gibbs were huddled around the plasma screen again. Whatever they were talking about, it sounded important. Dennis felt a pang of anger. If they found something, why didn't either of them think to call him? He may not be an agent, but he was still a part of this team. This was just as much his case as it was theirs.

"Got good news?" He asked as he approached them. The two men turned to him in surprise. "Or any kind of news?"

"What are you doing up here?"

"I found something. What do you got?"

Gibbs glared. Dennis rolled his eyes and told him what he found in the yearbook. He felt a little smug at their shocked looks. He found something that they both missed. "So?" He asked again.

Stan was the one who spoke. "I think I figured out the murder that Jamie Taylor witnessed." Dennis' jaw dropped to the floor. Stan nodded before he continued, "Miranda Hack, found only a few miles outside of Quantico outside a motel." He moved aside and clicked a button on the remote in his hand.

A picture came up on the television. It wasn't pretty. A young woman, couldn't have been older than twenty-five, with her hands bound in front of her and a silk cord wrapped around her throat. She had been posed after she was killed, hands over her heart, legs straight out. She looked like she was being buried. In a coffin.

This wasn't a crime of passion.

"How are you so sure this is the case Jamie Taylor saw?"

Stan clicked another button. A mug shot of their victim popped up. "Miranda Hack was arrested three times for prostitution. Twice with Julia Chike. The women were friends. It could explain why Chike lied about seeing Jamie."

"She was defending him," Gibbs finished. "He's the only one who knows what happened to her friend."

Dennis finished the train of thought. "But his credibility would be shot to hell if he was convicted of murdering his mother." Something actually made sense for once. It was nice for a change. "What else did I miss down there?"

"Darklin lied four months ago," said Stan. "She was off having sex with Corporal Graham the night that Jamie disappeared."

Dennis rolled his eyes. "Naturally."

"Morgan," Gibbs barked. "Go pick up your partner. He's slept enough and we're gonna need more man power. Stan, go downstairs and get that yearbook from Abby."

Dennis nodded before he headed for the elevator.

* * *

**Ok, I'm sorry, I only just realized that I'm writing chapter 17, not 16. I am really sorry, guys, I have no idea why I waited so long getting this chapter out. I give all of you permission to Gibbs' slap me for this. **

**So, does anybody have any idea what Dennis found in the yearbook? Other than blood. Talk to me!**

**Bob**


	17. Sixteen

**I owe you all an explanation. Ok, so on last Friday, I took my computer to Best Buy Geek Squad (don't recommend it) because the thing kept shutting down on me, and my hinge is broken, so I was hoping they could fix the two problems. Unfortunately, it turned out that my hard drive is dying, so they kept giving me crap and telling me that it was going to take longer and longer and longer to fix the problem, but to fix my hard drive, I was going to have to pay another three hundred dollars for them to fix it. I didn't get to pick up the computer until today (Still not actually done) and now my best friend is going to give it to her father and he's not only going to fix my hard drive, but he'll also fix my hinge (that Geek Squad made worse) for a bottle of Jack Daniels. **

**Why am I telling all of you this? I promise, it is not strictly to vent (Although, I'm afraid it may have come out a little ranty, and I apologize for that) but because my laptop was the only place I had this story saved. I honestly thought I'd get my computer back faster, and I am so sorry about the long wait. I swear, I WILL NOT ever take so long to update this story. And I promise, I have no intention of abandoning this story. But I owe all of you a huge apology, and you deserved to know what took so long.  
**

**

* * *

Sixteen**

Jethro strode into the interrogation room with a purpose. They were running out of time and at this point he was functioning solely off of coffee and gas fumes. A part of him felt envious of DiNozzo for getting a chance to sleep, even though he was the one who gave it to him. But he still refused to lie down. Not until he knew that the boy was safe.

He slapped the yearbook down on the table in front of Corporal Darklin. She jumped nearly through the ceiling. She was already nervous and tense, and Jethro's presence intensified it.

He sat down opposite of her, slightly proud that he had that effect on the young woman.

He opened the book to the right page. There was a picture of two young women with their arms wrapped around each other. One was a very attractive blonde wearing more make-up than necessary, the other was a brunette with big blue eyes.

"Julia Chike was your old friend from high school." Darklin tensed, so Jethro continued,"That was why she was staying at your house the night of the murder. You let her in."

"No," Darklin finally said, her voice quivering.

"No?" Jethro leaned back and crossed his legs. "So, she was there," he shook his head, "to work?"

Darklin finally pulled her eyes away from the yearbook. "No!" She cried out. "It wasn't like that!"

Jethro uncrossed his legs and leaned over the table, his entire body completely ablaze with fury. "Then you tell me what the hell it was like. Tell me why your friend is dead!"

Darklin gasped. "What?"

"Your _friend_," he sneered the word, "is lying on a slab in our morgue. Somebody beat her to death. Because of what she saw!"

"Julia wasn't even there that night!" She faltered at the last word. At first it had seemed like she was desperate to make Gibbs understand, but now she looked like she was barely holding it together. Obviously the full weight of her friend's murder just hit her.

"How do you know, you weren't there, remember?"

She shook her head, slowly rocking back and forth. "Her friend. Her friend from the street, she was murdered." She choked up a sob. "Julia was so scared. She didn't want to end up like that. So I told her that she could stay with me. I would protect her." She dropped her head onto the table and cried. Jethro leaned back and waited for her to get her bearings again. He didn't know why he was being nice, but this woman just lost a good friend. He could give her a few minutes to just cry.

After another minute she picked her head back up. "But she wasn't at my house that night. I know she wasn't. She was visiting her mother. In Philedelphia. She was two states away, Agent Gibbs!"

Jethro sighed heavily. Whoever killed that working girl most likely took Jamie. They kidnapped him, killed Marcus Tatum, Julia Chike, the real Gloria Smith and Karen Taylor. They were covering their tracks.

"Why was she in PFC Huntington's house?"

Darklin shook her head, flabbergasted. "What does that have to do with anything?"

It could have been the lack of sleep, or because of all the complicated bullshit involved with this case, but Jethro just snapped. He slammed his fist onto the table, causing the woman to jump again. "Answer my damn questions!"

She violently shook. "Sam is a good friend of mine. When he went out of town, I asked him if Julia could housesit for him and he agreed."

The door to the interrogation room opened. Burley popped his head in. "Boss, I need to talk to you."

Jethro glared. Burley knew better. "Workin'."

"It's important. Really important."

With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet and followed Burley out in the hallway. As soon as the door was shut behind him, he wheeled around and glared daggers at his Senior Field Agent. "Rule #22, Stan. You never, _ever, _interrupt an interrogation. Or were you not thinking when you walked in there?"

Burley kept his voice low as he told Jethro his news. The anger faded away, leaving behind only shock.

"What?"

**.**

Tony hadn't slept that well in months. Most nights were riddled with nightmares involving butcher shops and big knives and small, cramped, deep chest freezers. But tonight there were no nightmares. Only good dreams and a satisfied body.

And when he closed his eyes, he didn't see a monster in a hot girl costume in front of his face.

He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. Ley was still lying next to him. Judging from the look in her eyes, she had yet to fall asleep. There was a strange look on her face. It looked like a mix of happiness and… sadness.

Tony closed his eyes again and sighed. Ley was a virgin. And he took that away from her for his own personal needs.

"Hey," she croaked.

He opened his eyes to see her smiling at him. "I'm sorry." He meant it. He was disgusted with himself. And to think, only a few short minutes ago, he actually felt good.

She rolled over so she could look him directly in the eye. "For what?"

"For this." He pointed between the two of them. "I doubt this was how you wanted your first time to be."

She chuckled. "Yeah, well. It could have been worse. You totally could have sucked."

He outright laughed at that.

"Tony, I didn't do anything I didn't want to do. Granted it's not how I always imagined my first time, but when is it ever exactly how you imagine it?" She shrugged.

"So you don't hate me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Sadly, it's gonna take more than a night of _consensual_ sex to get me to hate you. You'd have to like, massacre my entire family for that to happen."

Tony smiled. Slowly, he started to get up, but then he thought of something. "Hey, did you and Den find out anything interesting during the canvas?"

She nodded as she started looking for her uniform. "Yeah, we found out that Jamie Taylor witnessed a murder."

Tony listened intently as she explained everything that she learned, his jaw to the floor the entire time. They figured all of this out and nobody thought to notify him?

"Nobody told you?"

He shook his head and grabbed his shirt. "Evidently Gibbs thought my sleep was more important than keeping me up to speed on my damn case."

"I'm sure he was planning on briefing you the second you came back to the Navy Yard."

Tony rolled his eyes. While what she said was most likely true, how hard would it be to just pick up a phone and tell him what they figured out? Instead he had to look like a jackass by getting briefed after everybody else?

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Ley asked as she slid on her shoes.

"Sure."

"Gerald sort of let it slip that Gibbs offered you a job at NCIS, is it true?"

Tony tensed. _Damn it_, he didn't want anyone to ever find out about that. "I turned him down." He went back to getting dressed.

"But he did offer." It wasn't a question.

"Does that matter?"

"Yeah, a little." He could tell Ley was starting to get angry, but so was he. "If you turned him down, then why didn't you ever say anything?"

He chuckled bitterly. "Ley, you act like it's the only job offer I ever got."

Her jaw dropped open in shock. "There have been others?"

Damn his big mouth. He rubbed his face. "Agent Fornell made a couple offers."

"How many is a couple?"

Eleven, to date. And no doubt he'd have another letter waiting for him when he got back to Baltimore. "Like one or two, does it matter?"

Ley bit her lip. "Why'd you turn them down?"

He shrugged. "I had my reasons."

He could tell she wanted to say something else, but somebody rang his doorbell, saving him.

Tony tried not to act to happy as he made his way towards the door. But there was still probably a bounce in his step. He did just get laid, and whoever was outside that door was stopping an incredibly uncomfortable conversation. They deserved a hug.

When he opened the door, any happiness he had been feeling left his body. His partner, best friend, and the brother of his latest bed buddy, Dennis Morgan, stood outside in the hallway.

"What are you doing here?" He kept the door mostly closed so Denny couldn't see who else was in his room.

"Naptime's over, Gibbs wants you back at the Navy Yard."

Tony nodded, still feeling rather uncomfortable. "Right, just give me a second." He moved to shut the door but Denny stopped him.

"You mind if I wait inside?"

Tony chuckled. He hoped it didn't sound as hysterical as he thought it did. "Why? You wanna see me naked or something?"

Denny rolled his eyes before he stared down at Tony's body. The younger man looked down. He was already dressed. "I'll just be a minute!" He made to shut the door again.

Denny pushed the door open completely. And his jaw dropped to the floor.

Tony didn't have to turn around. He knew full well what his partner saw. He dropped his head and cringed, preparing for the worst.

"You son of a bitch!"

Tony didn't even see the fist come barreling for his already bruised face.

He stumbled over, just barely catching himself before he fell to the floor. There was screaming above him, but he couldn't make out the words. He knew both of the Morgans were shouting.

When he lifted his head, he saw Ley barely holding her brother back before he attacked again.

"You bastard!" Dennis screamed.

"Dennis!"

Tony straightened himself up and took a step back. He didn't want to face his partner's anger more than he absolutely had to. "Denny—"

His partner cut him off. "Don't!" He finally shrugged his sister off of him, but he didn't move to attack Tony. "We are through. Do you understand me? As soon as this case is over, I'm asking for a new partner."

Tony felt his heart stop. "Den—"

"Screw off!" He turned around and started walking down the hallway.

Tony didn't hesitate. He took off running after Denny. "Den! Stop, can we talk about this?"

Denny whirled on him, his entire face engulfed in anger. "What the hell is there to talk about? You," he huffed. "I forgave you when you banged Dana, but this? _Lea_?" He started walking again. He didn't actually say it, but Tony definitely heard "Fuck off" radiate off of him.

"So it's ok for me to sleep with Dana, but not Ley?"

"Dana's a whore, that isn't ever gonna change." He didn't say anything else, but Tony got the message loud and clear. Ley was a virgin, and Tony took advantage. Denny was also much closer with her than he was with either of his half sisters.

"Den, will you just look at me?" He grabbed Denny's shoulder to get him to stop.

Denny swiveled and punched him square in the jaw again. Tony slammed into the wall before turning around and punching Denny back. The older man dropped to the floor, his lip bloody.

He stood back up and moved into Tony's personal space. Tony mentally prepared himself for a full scale fight.

"Hey!" Ley shouted, running towards them. "What the hell is the matter with the two of you?"

"Stay out of this!" Denny shouted.

Ley ignored him. She handed Tony his cell phone. In his rush, he must have forgotten all of his things back in the room. "Gibbs called. He says it's urgent."

With a sigh, he grabbed the device and put it to his ear. "Find Jamie yet?"

His jaw dropped.

"We're on our way." He hung up.

Denny rolled his eyes. "Of course. Now what?"

Tony breathed a heavy sigh. They hadn't found Jamie just yet, but this was still pretty big.

"Sergeant Taylor just woke up."

* * *

**I am currently working on chapter 19, so, hopefully, I'll be able to get chapter 17 out either Saturday or Sunday. I just gotta type it up.**

**Was it at least good? Nice fun fight? Maybe? Hopefully? Please don't hate me? *Puppy dog eyes***

**Bob**


	18. Seventeen

**See? Told you I'd get this update out sooner! Ok, a few things that I have to share. The other day I got kidnapped by my goddaughter again (She dragged me into her room and refused to let me leave). So, I'm sitting there, plotting my escape when her mother came in and and said "I'm taking her." My goddaughter latched onto my sweatshirt and said "You can't!" And then really low and creepy, she added, "She's mine." Keep in mind, this little brat just turned four years old. Also, I have discovered that when it comes to alcohol, I am a lightweight (My birthday was last Saturday, I'm officially legal). Three vodka seven up's (in ten minutes) and I was being dragged home because I couldn't walk. But, I had an NCIS moment! I was sitting there in the car, waiting to go home, and my fingers were numb, so I said "My fingers are finging!" Sadly nobody I was with got the reference. They just thought I was hammered. It was very upsetting. Just had to tell you that.**

**

* * *

Seventeen**

Jethro couldn't believe it. After four months in a coma, Sergeant Taylor was finally awake. Now, of all times, when Jethro reopened the case.

He ignored any thoughts about coincidences.

He and Burley walked into the hospital room. The heart monitor was the only sound being made. At first glance, Jethro wouldn't have believed that the man on the bed was a Marine. His hair was long and shaggy, his face was scruffy, and he looked weak. And skinny. When he visited Sergeant Taylor when he was first attacked, he looked like a strong Marine fresh off a tour from Iraq. Now, Jethro could barely believe that this was the same man.

He cleared his throat. "Sergeant Taylor?"

Taylor twitched for a second before he slowly turned to the two agents. "Who," he paused. His voice was hoarse, but that was understandable. He hadn't used it in four months. Taylor swallowed before he tried again. "Who are you?"

The two agents pulled out their I.D. holders for him. "Special Agents Gibbs," he pointed at the blond, "Burley, NCIS. We need to talk to you about your assault."

Taylor sighed heavily. "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I barely remember anything that happened last night."

Jethro felt a pang in his chest. How could he explain that this man didn't just lose a couple hours? He lost four months. His wife was dead and his son was missing.

When Jethro was a Marine, he nearly died from an explosion. When he woke up, he didn't remember the blast, all he remembered was his CO telling him that his family was dead. His wife and daughter were gone. He hated comparing the two situations, but he could feel Sergeant Taylor's pain. Even if Taylor couldn't yet.

"Sergeant Taylor, you haven't been out for a couple hours," he started. He waited until Taylor looked at him again before he continued. "You've been in a coma for four months."

He watched as Taylor absorbed that. First there was shock, then confusion. "Four months? That's impossible." He shook his head. "My wife, my son." He rubbed his head. Jethro watched as his heart monitor started racing.

Damn it, why was he here? He had a subordinate for a reason. So he wouldn't have to be the bearer of bad news. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he slowly moved closer to Taylor's bed. "Your wife was murdered the night you were attacked." He watched the look of horror fill the man's face. And now the kicker. "And your son was kidnapped."

Taylor sat and watched him for a good five minutes before he started talking. "Jamie? Karen?" His heart monitor started beeping faster again. "How could this happen? Who would do this?"

"We don't know."

The shock was immediately replaced by anger. "How could you not know? My son's missing and you have no idea why?"

"We know why," Jethro interrupted. He knew that Taylor needed to vent, but they still had to find his son. The longer Jamie was missing, the worse his chances got. "Your son witnessed the murder of a prostitute about four and a half months ago."

The color drained from Taylor's face and his heart monitor skipped a beat.

Burley stepped forward. "We believe whoever killed her kidnapped your son to keep his silence."

"What do you remember about the night you were attacked, Sergeant Taylor?" Jethro asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the heart monitor continue to go crazy. It was too fast. The sane part of Jethro told him that Taylor was just given on helluva shock, this was a natural reaction.

His gut was telling him something else entirely.

Taylor shook his head. "We fought."

"You wanted to send Jamie to military school." It wasn't a question. He already knew the answer.

"I'm always gone. I spend so much time in Iraq, and Karen couldn't handle Jamie by herself. I just thought, a year in military school might be able to straighten him up. But Jamie didn't want to go." Tears started falling from the Sergeant's eyes. "I was just trying to do right by my family."

The doors slid open just as Taylor choked out a sob. Jethro turned around to see DiNozzo and Morgan step into the room. DiNozzo's face looked worse today as his bruises were fully formed. He definitely took a beating yesterday. He also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw. Morgan's lip was bloody and swollen.

He wasn't even gonna ask.

He climbed off Taylor's bed and approached the two cops. He could feel the tension between them. "DiNozzo," he kept his voice low so Taylor couldn't hear, "you remember that witness in Baltimore?"

DiNozzo stared back at him, utterly confused. "There were a lot of witnesses in Baltimore."

"The art student."

That earned him DiNozzo's full smile. It looked a little strange with all of the bruises. The young man stepped around him and approached the Sergeant's bed. Jethro motioned the other two out of the room.

"What was that about?" Burley asked when they were far enough away.

Jethro shrugged. "I figured if anybody could jog Taylor's memory, it'd be DiNozzo."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Tony's perfect." Jethro cocked an eyebrow at Morgan's sarcastic tone. Whatever happened between the two of them must have been pretty damn bad.

But he still wasn't going to ask.

Burley was, though, apparently. "What happened between you two?"

Morgan shook his head. "Not important."

Jethro could tell that Burley wanted to push it further, but he didn't say a word when he saw his boss' glare.

DiNozzo stepped out of the room a few minutes later. Jethro wouldn't have believed that it was possible, but the cop actually looked worse than he did when he walked in.

"What did he say?" Jethro asked.

DiNozzo ran a hand over his face. "Jamie hit him." Jethro was stunned. He had actually started to believe that Jamie was innocent. Apparently he was wrong. DiNozzo looked him square in the eye. "It sounds like it was an accident, Gibbs. Sergeant Taylor was dragging him back into the house. Jamie picked up the picture to get him off."

Jethro nodded, and breathed a quick sigh of relief. Sure, it was stupid, but it all made sense. Jamie thought his life was in danger, he ran to protect himself. His father was in his way. "What about Karen Taylor?"

"Alive and hysterical." DiNozzo shook his head. "I don't think Jamie killed her."

"How did you get all that?" Burley asked, amazed and slightly jealous.

DiNozzo just grinned. "I'm a man of many talents."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "I'll bet."

DiNozzo's smile fell.

Jethro ignored it. "Taylor's hiding something."

"What are you thinking, boss?" Burley asked.

Jethro turned to his agent. "Did you see the way he reacted when we told him about the murder Jamie saw?"

The blonde man scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. "We just threw that man for a loop, I think his reaction was pretty normal."

Jethro shook his head. "He got scared."

Morgan nodded, a look of understanding on his face. "Every person with any connection to that murder is either dead or missing. Marcus Tatum, Julia Chike, Gloria Smith, Jamie."

DiNozzo stepped in, "You think Sergeant Taylor knows about the murder?"

Jethro nodded. "Maybe."

"If that's true," Burley started, "Then he's not gonna talk to us. If he does, he knows they'll kill him."

"Or his son," finished DiNozzo.

Jethro started walking away from Taylor's room. "Then we better find them before that happens," he said barely above a whisper.

The other three men followed. Jethro silent fumed. It could be the lack of sleep, or lack of caffeine, but his already fragile patience was completely gone. He was sick of this case, he was sick of people lying to him, sick of all the anger and jealousy. It was going to stop. Here and now.

"Burley, I want the entire case file from our dead hooker."

"No problem, I'll give 'em a call—"

Jethro cut him off. "You go yourself. I don't need any locals taking up space in my squadroom."

"Thanks a lot, Gibbs," DiNozzo spat.

"Morgan, you find your witness. Bring him to the Yard."

"He doesn't know anything—"

"Our killer doesn't know that. He knows enough."

"What about me?" DiNozzo asked.

Jethro whirled on him and stepped into his personal space, fury still blazing through his entire body. "You do what I tell you to yet?"

DiNozzo fidgeted where he stood, refusing to meet Jethro's eye. He didn't have to hear the young man say it, he already knew the answer. "Not yet." That was just confirmation.

The older man nodded. "Go with your partner."

DiNozzo looked like he just slapped him across the face. "Gibbs—"

Jethro finally lost it. "I don't care! I don't care what problem you two have. I don't care if he ran over your grandmother or if you fooled around with his kid sister." DiNozzo turned seven shades of red and Morgan's glare intensified. _Ah_. "I don't care. Do your damn job or go back to Baltimore and stay there!" He wheeled around and stalked away.

He heard DiNozzo bark out, "Stay!" He groaned. Next thing he knew, the young man was grabbing his shoulder and twisting him around.

"What?"

DiNozzo huffed. "You're mad. I get that. Trust me, you're not the only one who's getting pissed off about this case. But stop treating me like crap! I'm a damn good cop, and I know that you agree, or you wouldn't have offered me a job!" He looked over at the other two to make sure they weren't eavesdropping. He quieted down. "But don't give me attitude because I don't wanna talk about the butcher shop."

"You need to talk about it!"

"Have you?" That was shouted, but his next words were quiet again. "I wasn't alone that day. When was the last time you talked about it?" Jethro didn't answer. It made DiNozzo chuckle. "I'm not the only one who got hurt." He said before he walked away. He didn't stop by his partner, he just kept walking until he was out of sight.

Eventually, Morgan followed.

Burley slowly approached him. He looked a little sheepish with his hands in his back pockets and his head down.

"Don't say it, Stan." Jethro walked away, still reeling. He refused to acknowledge that what DiNozzo said was true. Jethro survived far worse than the beating that Lance put him through. He was a Marine, he fought in a war. He buried his wife and daughter.

The butcher shop didn't bother him.

**.**

Tony was quite possibly angrier now than he was before. A feat in and of itself. His body hurt more today than it did yesterday, and while he actually got a decent night's sleep, he felt exhausted.

He slammed his body into the door and left the hospital. It wasn't until they were outside that Denny finally spoke. "What the hell was that about?"

Tony shook his head and kept walking. "Nothing."

"Well what did Gibbs mean, 'did you do what I told you'?"

"Nothing important."

Denny chuckled bitterly. "How cute, you and Gibbs have your own little secrets."

Tony clenched his fingers into tight fists. He stayed silent. He was too angry for words.

"Hey!" Denny shouted, mock cheerily as they neared the car. "I just got a great idea. Since you and Gibbs are so tight, why don't you take him up on that job offer? That way, I don't have to transfer again."

Tony groaned. He made it a whole month without once mentioning that damn offer and now in less than a day, everyone knew. "Who told you about that? Was it Gibbs? Jackson?"

"Carnec!"

Tony stopped and swiveled around to stare open mouthed at his partner. He wasn't even aware that Carnec knew about that.

"Jackson just confirmed."

Tony shook his head. "I never told Carnec."

"Yeah, you never told me either. Glad our friendship means so much to you."

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd overreact. Like you are now!"

"So if I hadn't come to get you today, you never would have told me about Lea either, huh?"

Tony rolled his eyes and started walked again. "You know, you're making a big deal out of nothing."

"You banged my sister, but I'm overreacting?"

Tony spun around again. They were standing in front of their car finally. "I wasn't the only person in that hotel room, Den. Or maybe that's the problem. You're pissed because even your sister wants me and you can't even get a girl to save your damn life!" He emphasized his last words by shoving Denny away from him.

Denny bent low and charged at Tony's gut. Tony was ready for him. Soon, both were on the ground wrestling. Denny was on top, straddling Tony's waist. The younger man fought with everything he had left, but he was at a disadvantage. He couldn't move as easily, and Denny was in perfect health. Tony had taken one hell of a beating only yesterday. His entire torso was screaming in agony and Denny wasn't exactly skin and bones.

Denny grabbed his shirt to pull his head off the ground. He wound back to deliver another punch.

Tony chose that moment to act.

He wound his tie around Denny's wrist and pulled as hard as he could.

Denny yelled out a string of profanities that would have made a sailor proud as he slammed onto his back. Tony moved so now he straddled his partner and pinned Denny's arms by his head.

The older man struggled against him. "Nice to know you still know how to defend yourself without Gibbs around to save your sorry ass!"

Tony leaned down so the two of them were almost nose to nose. "I was _raped_ in that butcher shop!"

Denny finally stopped moving. His jaw dropped and the color disappeared from his face.

Tony got to his feet and climbed in the car behind the wheel. He sat there for a while, just breathing. He didn't know what else to do. Hell, he didn't even know what to feel. Relief that he finally said it? Anger? Shame? He didn't have a clue. So he just didn't feel anything.

After five minutes, Denny crawled into the passenger's side, keeping his eyes off his partner. Tony started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

They were already on the highway before Denny broke the deafening silence. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I couldn't." It was true. That was the first time he ever said the words. Hell, he never even thought the words before.

"Lance?"

Tony tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Kitty."

Silence followed.

He hated it. He hated that he let a woman take advantage of him. And at the end of the day, that's what happened. She needed his reaction. He wasn't strong enough to stop her. A part of him always wondered if he actually did want it. Kitty wasn't ugly by any stretch of the imagination. On a normal day, he would have gladly taken her to bed. What made the butcher shop so different?

Every time he started to think about it, he ended up getting drunk and picking up the first floozy who showed any interest.

"I turned down Gibbs' offer," he said after another twenty minutes passed. "I turn down every offer I get."

"Why?"

Tony sighed heavily. He was grateful that Denny dropped the subject of the butcher shop. "Because you stuck by me." And it was the truth. Tony left Philadelphia P.D. because he fooled around with his captain's daughter. Denny didn't have to come with him, but he still did. To this day, Tony had no idea what he did to earn that kind of loyalty.

And he royally fucked it all up.

The next time Denny spoke was to give him directions. Nothing else was said.

* * *

**Ok, I'll admit, the thing with the tie was based loosely on a fight I witnessed my brother and cousin get into. My brother just has so many stories, I could write an entire novel based on them. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and hopefully, I'll get chapter 18 up before the end of the week.**

**Bob**


	19. Eighteen

**I have to tell you guys this right now, this chapter turned out a lot shorter than I thought it'd be. As far as I can tell the next chapter is longer, and I'll try to get it out on Sunday, Monday at the latest. But tomorrow I'm gonna be insanely busy (best friend's getting married... again), so you won't hear from me tomorrow. **

**Good news though, the hard drive on my laptop is fixed! I just have to wait for the hinge/body thing to be replaced. Soon! I hope.**

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****Eighteen**

Jethro and Burley went back to the Navy Yard together, but in the parking lot, Jethro went inside while Burley went to see the police in Dale City, where the prostitute was killed.

The first thing Jethro did when he sat down at his desk was check the BOLO on the fake Gloria Smith. They still had nothing on her. Not even a name. Jethro wasn't sure if she was another victim or another perp. Where did she fit in all of this?

No hits yet. Nobody had seen her. He figured she hadn't bothered to move Jamie since the night she nabbed him. It would be the smarter choice. Nobody can be on the lookout for somebody if they weren't out.

He rubbed his tired eyes. A part of him felt like giving up. He wouldn't. Never in a million years. But the more this went on, the more convinced Jethro was that Jamie was dead. It made him seriously hate his job.

He needed coffee.

"I heard your comatose Sergeant is awake." Jethro looked up at his friend's words. He hadn't even heard Ducky approach. Just more proof of how drained he was feeling. Ducky placed the large cup of coffee on his desk. "I figured you could use a pick me up."

Jethro nodded as he reached for the cup. The burn felt good on his throat. "Yeah."

"Did you tell him about his family?"

"I did."

Ducky sighed heavily. "How did he take it?"

Jethro shrugged. "As well as could be expected."

Ducky nodded. "In other words, not well at all."

Jethro took another swig but didn't say anything else. Ducky was a good man and a great friend, but he couldn't' understand what Sergeant Taylor was feeling.

"Did he remember anything about the night he was attacked?" Ducky sat down on the corner of Jethro's desk.

The agent leaned back in his seat and plopped his hands on top of his head. "Yeah, he said that Jamie hit him."

He didn't miss the note of surprise on his friend's face. "Oh my."

"DiNozzo said it was an accident."

"DiNozzo? Detective DiNozzo? He spoke to Taylor?" Ducky sounded incredibly surprised. It was understandable, Jethro wasn't known for his trust with local cops.

He just shrugged. "He was the only one I figured could get Taylor to remember everything."

Ducky nodded. "He does seem to be a remarkable young man."

Jethro chuckled. "He's a cop with a good memory, Ducky." And true, he could make a really damn good investigator, but at the moment he was mostly just raw potential.

Ducky looked him directly in the eye. "He saved your life."

Jethro tensed. He almost forgot that Ducky read that file.

When they were kidnapped back in February, Jethro was savagely beaten with a block of wood till half of his bones were broken. DiNozzo was repeatedly stabbed and sliced. Neither of them could walk on their own. And when Lance tried to kill Jethro with a cleaver, Jethro couldn't fight back, he was too wounded. But DiNozzo killed him by throwing a knife into his back.

He sighed heavily. "You were right, Duck. I did omit something from the file."

Ducky sighed heavily. "What did they do to you, Jethro?"

He sat forward again, a small, sad smile playing across his lips. "They didn't do it to me, they did it to Tony." He hesitated again. "Kitty raped him." He heard Ducky gasp, but he refused to look up and see the shocked look he knew was there. "And I didn't stop her."

"You couldn't stop her," Ducky said indignantly. He didn't believe that Jethro was to blame.

Jethro shook his head. His friend didn't understand. "I could have tried harder." He kept trying to keep DiNozzo's mind off the woman grinding her pelvis into his lap, but in the end it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Ducky made a noise in the back of his throat. "The point is that you did try." He paused. "Jethro. As much as I'm sure it hurts you, you were not victimless in that butcher shop."

That was not what Jethro expected to hear. "I wasn't the one raped. I've been in worse licks that that." He was a Marine. He'd been in combat.

"That I don't doubt. But Lance and Kitty made you defenseless." The more Ducky spoke, the more Jethro wanted to get away. He didn't want Ducky's lecture. Damn it, why did he tell him? "Jethro," Ducky continued, completely oblivious to Jethro's mental tirade, "you are one of the strongest, bravest men I have ever known. But you are still just a man. And no man reacts well when faced with their own limitations."

"I was scared, Duck." He didn't know why he admitted that, either. But he always felt more comfortable talking to Ducky. That's why they were such good friends.

Damn it, Ducky was right. So was DiNozzo. He needed to talk about this. He hated it when other people were right.

"As you should have been," the older man said matter-of-factly. "They would have had no problem killing you." He tilted his head in thought. "I suppose you should be grateful that you had someone else as stubborn as you are with you." With one last smile, Ducky took his leave.

As soon as the doctor was gone, Jethro broke out into a smile. Leave it to Ducky to drag the real problem out of him. The old man knew Jethro far too well.

His cell phone rang, pulling him out of his reverie. "Yeah, Gibbs," he said into the receiver.

"Boss!" Burley yelled into his ear.

Jethro pulled the phone away until his ear stopped ringing. Now he was angry again. "Stan you better have found something, or so help me—"

Burley cut him off. "I did. I really did. Something big."

Jethro waited all of five seconds before he snapped, "What?"

"Miranda Hack wasn't the only prostitute killed like that. Bound and laid out. There were eight of them so far. Jamie Taylor didn't just witness a murder, he witnessed a serial murder."

Jethro's jaw fell open. That was definitely big.

"There's more," Burley started. He was on a roll now. "Every one of the girls have been arrested together at some point in time."

"They all work for the same pimp?"

"More like Madame. I checked with all the cops around I could find. The Madame, Angela Samson has never been arrested, only one guy here's ever spoken to her face-to-face. Says she's a heavy-set black woman with a cocky attitude."

Jethro closed his eyes and breathed out an air of annoyance. "That matches our fake Gloria Smith's description."

"Yeah, I showed him the BOLO. He IDed her as our Angela Samson." He paused for a few seconds to let Jethro seethe. "He's currently being reamed out by his captain."

"He should lose his damn job." A boy was missing and some idiot couldn't be bothered to check a damn BOLO? "Stan, you get your ass back up here. Now!" He slammed the phone shut till it broke in his hands. Then he stood up and headed for interrogation room two.

He strode through the door and sat down across from Corporal Darklin. She fidgeted under his intense stare. He smiled a little on the inside. "You've been holding back from me, Corporal."

She shook her head. "I told you everything I know."

Jethro loved catching people in lies. "Your best friend was a prostitute." She choked out a sob. Jethro ignored it. "All of her friends were murdered by a serial killer and her Madame is the one who kidnapped Jamie Taylor from Baltimore. And I don't believe in coincidences."

Tears were flowing freely down her face now. Her lip quivered and her head shook. "I can't. I can't."

Jethro leaned further over the table. "I need to know how to find Jamie. And I think you know how to find him." He tried to keep his voice as calm and soothing as possible. On the inside he wanted to get up and shake this woman. He felt no sympathy for her. He was just annoyed with her.

"You can't protect me. They'll kill me. Nobody can help me."

Jethro decided he was sick of playing good cop. He slammed his fist down onto the table, causing Darklin to jump. "Hey!" he shouted. "Your friend is dead because of you. Innocent people who never hurt a damn thing in their lives are dead because of you. Now I don't care if they kill you but you are not taking that boy with you!"

"I don't know anything!" Jethro did notice the tears were drying up.

"You know something!"

"I heard Karen scream for Jamie. So I got dressed and went over there. But when I got there, Karen was dead, Phil was unconscious and two men were telling me they'd kill me if I said anything!" She was screaming to defend herself. Get Jethro to pity her again.

But all she did was fuel his anger. She was a damn coward and because of her, three people were dead. She didn't deserve to be a Marine. "What did they look like?"

"They were wearing masks!"

"What did they sound like?"

"Like two men!"

He hit the table again. "Give me something!"

"I don't know anything!"

Jethro was about to start screaming again, but his thoughts stopped him.

Damn it, he got played again.

* * *

**Yes, Gibbs has finally figured out the puzzle. And you will all find out next chapter. And again, I'm sorry about how short this chapter was. But I got to this point and I decided that this was the place to leave off. Sorry, again.**

**Bob**


	20. Nineteen

**Ok, I know that I said I was going to try and get this up on Monday, but then school showed up and started beating me up, and said that if I tried to post this before I finished my school work it was going to fail me. And after I got sobbing hysterically, I eventually seceded school's point. But I have not forgotten about you! My classes are just evil this semester.**

**This chapter is longer than the last one, but still pretty short. I don't know why they keep showing up so short. I think that every time I get to the end of a story (And we are fast coming to a close) the chapters tend to get shorter and shorter. It's a pain. And I apologize.  
**

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Nineteen**

"When did PFC Huntington take leave?" Jethro asked. He hadn't spoken in five minutes. He was finally putting the pieces together. The picture was very slowly becoming clear the more he thought about it.

He should have figured it out sooner.

Darklin scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion, not saying anything. Jethro groaned. "When did Private First Class Sam Huntington take leave to take care of his sick grandmother?" He shouted again.

"A month ago." She shook her head. "Why, what's that matter?"

Jethro jumped up and left the room, ignoring her screams of protest and confusion.

Marcus Tatum was in Baltimore a month ago.

Damn it, he should have figured this out sooner. He needed sleep. He wasn't thinking clearly. That wasn't an excuse, it was a mistake. One that he would never make again.

When he got back into the bullpen, DiNozzo and Morgan were already standing there with a street kid with short light brown hair and tanned skin. It must have been John.

He pointed first at Morgan. "Find someplace to stow the kid. DiNozzo, with me."

The two cops spared each other a curious look before DiNozzo darted after Jethro. "Where are we goin', Gibbs?" He asked when they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid closed.

"Abby's lab."

"She find something?"

"She better."

DiNozzo huffed. "You wanna tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

The elevator dinged. Seconds later, it opened up onto the hallway in front of Abby's lab. "Corporal Darklin was there the night Jamie Taylor went missing."

He walked in front of the younger man, so he didn't see the confused look that no doubt crossed his features. "But I thought…" DiNozzo trailed off as the wheels started turning and he put the pieces together. "Damn it."

"Yeah," Jethro walked into the lab to see Abby dutifully working. "Abby!" He shouted over the obnoxiously loud music that always threatened to make his ears bleed.

She whirled around in shock. She spared a moment to stare at DiNozzo. Jethro noted that it wasn't full of disdain like he expected. Actually, it looked more like pity. She turned back to Jethro. "Gibbs!" She picked up a remote and shut the music off. She knew that he hated her noise. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you got?" He snapped, harsher than he initially intended. But if he didn't yell, Abby's rambling could give Ducky a run for his money.

She shook her head. "Not much. All the blood Detective Morgan and I went through belongs to Julia Chike. And there was a lot of blood, but I have nothing on her killer."

"PFC Huntington and Corporal Graham. They were working together." Out of the corner of his eye he saw DiNozzo's jaw dropped. He figured out Graham on his own, but he didn't know about Huntington just yet. But now he knew.

Abby's jaw dropped as well. "How do you know that?"

"My gut!" He snapped again. Graham told him that he was with Corporal Darklin that night. It was a lie. He thought that Darklin could identify him, so he claimed that she was nowhere near the scene. It also served as a damn good alibi for Graham. Huntington most likely picked up the trail where Tatum left off. But before he could grab him, DiNozzo took Jamie in, so he had to come up with a new plan.

"They killed that prostitute—" DiNozzo started until Jethro cut him off.

"There was more than one. Stan just found out." He trusted a serial killer. He couldn't believe he missed this.

DiNozzo sighed heavily. Jethro noted that he didn't look angry for once. There was another emotion there, but he didn't want to look too far into it. "They knew Jamie could identify them," he said.

Jethro nodded before turning back to Abby. "I need to know if you found something, anything."

She shook her head again. "There's nothing Gibbs. Huntington hasn't been home in a month."

"Which means that Graham probably murdered Chike!" Jethro yelled. He watched as Abby cringed away from him. "Did he track anything in?" That time he managed to keep his voice low so he didn't startle her anymore. He hated yelling at Abby, but damn he was pissed off and damn tired. It wasn't a good combination for him.

But she shook her head. "Nothing. I'm sorry Gibbs."

"This wasn't his first murder," DiNozzo interjected. "He knew what he was doing by then."

Jethro groaned. He finally knew who his killers were, and he couldn't find them.

"What if we tailed Graham?" DiNozzo threw out with a shrug. "Get him to lead us to Jamie."

Jethro rolled his eyes. "Graham hasn't seen either of them in a month. He's not gonna decide to pay 'em a visit now." Especially now.

"Not without a reason."

The agent was about to start screaming again when he realized something. DiNozzo had a point. "How good are your lying abilities?" He started walking briskly out of the lab.

He heard the grin in the young man's voice as he answered, "Just ask Fornell."

Jethro couldn't help but smirk. After a second of waiting for the elevator to arrive, he realized he forgot something and went back into Abby's domain.

Somehow he managed to get out after only a minute of talking—most of which was discussing how to work the doohickey in his hand—and went back to join DiNozzo at the elevator. The young man was already inside, leaning casually against the doors to stop them from closing. He didn't look happy with the task, but he didn't complain for once.

The doors closed and they were headed up to the ground floor when DiNozzo spoke. His words were full of guilt and remorse. "I should have figured this out sooner, Gibbs."

For some reason, Jethro felt pride swell up inside of him at that statement. "You're young." DiNozzo was a great cop, but he had only been a detective for a little over a year. He was a lead detective for only a handful of months. He wasn't old enough to have fully honed his instincts. Jethro couldn't make the same claim.

"It's not an excuse."

With a light groan, Jethro flicked the emergency stop switch. He wheeled around and whacked DiNozzo in the back of the head. He stepped into the younger man's personal space. "That is why an investigator doesn't work alone. You will miss things. But your partner might not, and vice versa. Always work as a team, DiNozzo." He stepped back and flicked the switch again.

"So what rule is that?"

Jethro smiled again. "Number fifteen."

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to write all of these down."

The elevator pinged on the ground floor. "Wouldn't show 'em to ya even if I did, DiNozzo." Actually, Jethro wrote the rules down years ago. Every time he thinks of a new one, he writes it down. But nobody knew about that, and he sure as hell wasn't going to tell DiNozzo anytime soon.

"What if I'm a visual learner?"

They left the building and headed for the parking lot.

"Then you probably shouldn't be a cop."

He heard DiNozzo grumble something about a 'bastard' behind him, which only made him smile.

"Hey, what kind of car do you drive?" Jethro asked. He didn't want to take his truck, it'd be too obvious in a tail.

DiNozzo looked at him confused. "A Corvette."

Jethro rolled his eyes. "Of course." Leave it to DiNozzo to have the most ostentatious car on the road.

The young man shrugged. "Doesn't matter. My car's still in Baltimore."

That was a good point. "What about your partner's car?"

DiNozzo pointed down the lot to a black Ford sedan. Now that was a car to use to follow somebody. A million people had that car on any road on any given day. It could easily blend into the crowd. "Go upstairs and get the key," said Jethro.

DiNozzo smiled as he pulled out his keychain. He clicked a button. The lights on the Ford flashed. "No need."

He started walking away. Jethro followed with a proud smile on his face. "You have a key to your partner's car on your keychain?"

DiNozzo shrugged. "I'm a good friend." He was smart. He climbed into the passenger's seat.

_Good boy_, Jethro thought. "He know you're such a good friend?" He climbed in behind the wheel.

DiNozzo handed him the keys, keeping his eyes down. He didn't look embarrassed. Actually, if Jethro had to guess, he wore a Cheshire Cat smirk.

"Yeah," Jethro started. "I thought so." He started the car and drove out of the lot.

"I told Denny," DiNozzo said after another few minutes.

Jethro didn't have to ask. He already knew what he meant. He told his partner about what really happened in the butcher shop. "And?"

DiNozzo shrugged. "And nothing. I mean, I always thought the words would feel more…" he shook his head. "I don't even know." He sighed heavily. "But I just felt numb."

Jethro didn't speak for only a moment. "I talked to Ducky."

DiNozzo leaned back and smiled. "How did that make you feel?"

Jethro grinned. "Well, doctor," DiNozzo chuckled. Jethro's grin faded, "he brought a lot of things into perspective."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Silence.

"Did you turn me down because of what happened in the butcher shop?"

DiNozzo turned to him, confused again. "What?" He drew the word out for several seconds.

Jethro spared him a quick glare. He didn't even want to have this conversation in the first place. But he had to know.

"Why the hell would you think that?"

Jethro didn't say anything. Truth was he didn't know what to say. But it was something that he had been thinking about for months. He needed to know if DiNozzo hated him as much as Jethro hated himself. If that was why the cop wasn't willing to leave his current job.

DiNozzo sighed heavily. "I did think about saying yes, you know. I mean, I actually liked working with you. I don't know why. And I do respect you." He chuckled softly. "Hell, I actually trust you."

Jethro smiled. "So why did you turn me down?"

"You know why."

"Is your partner the only reason?"

DiNozzo swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yeah. Yeah he is."

Jethro knew there was more that DiNozzo wanted to add. Like how the cop's boss was willing to throw him under a bridge on this case. Carnec was the kind of guy who would do anything to protect his own sorry ass. Hard to work for somebody who put himself first. Hell, it's hard to trust somebody like that. And in their line of work, trust was a very important thing.

"You know none of this was your fault, Tony."

DiNozzo closed his eyes and smiled the first real smile Jethro had seen in a long time. "What?" Jethro asked.

DiNozzo shushed him. "I'm savoring the moment," he whispered.

Jethro's eyebrow quirked as he gave the young man an incredulous look. "The moment?"

DiNozzo opened his eyes and glanced at Jethro. That smile still spread across his lips. "You just called me Tony."

Jethro chuckled as he made a turn.

* * *

**Yes, they figured out who did it, no it is not going to be easy to bring them in. But that is all I'm willing to share. Hope you enjoyed. Talk to me!**

**Bob  
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	21. Twenty

**So, the story is quickly coming to a close. There's at least two more chapters after this, excluding the epilogue. This chapter is sadly short (6 pages), but I guarantee the next one is much longer. How much longer, I can't exactly say, I still have to finish typing it (It's all written, I just have to transfer it to my computer). **

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Twenty

It took Dennis twenty minutes to find a place to put John. He didn't know the layout of the building. His first thought was to put the kid in an interrogation room because he knew how to find them. But he didn't want John to think he was in trouble. The kid was a pain in the ass, but he didn't do anything wrong. This time. And if Dennis dropped him in an interrogation room, John would no doubt get skittish. That was the last thing Dennis wanted.

Eventually another agent, Chris Pacci, took pity on him and took John to the conference room. It was spacious and bright with a friendly atmosphere. John didn't like it. As the two men left the room and closed the door, they heard the kid scream out a string of profanities.

Dennis then spent another half an hour ranting about Gibbs with Pacci. Apparently, Pacci worked with Gibbs before, and he had a hard time with it too. Pacci almost wet himself when Gibbs roared at him for making a Probie mistake. Afterwards, the man literally got down on his knees and begged Director Morrow to put him on a different team.

Pacci was in the middle of a very convincing Gibbs impersonation when Dennis realized how long he'd been gone and made his way back to the bullpen. Pacci looked pretty upset to see him go. It left Dennis feeling confused about what exactly Pacci was looking for: a friend, an acquaintance to complain about Gibbs with, or something more. Dennis felt that he would give himself a headache if he thought about it too much.

When he turned the corner into the bullpen, Gibbs and Tony were gone and Stan stood in the middle of the room with his cell phone glued to his ear.

"What's up?" Dennis asked when he approached the older man.

Stan shook his head. "Gibbs and his new favorite pet—no offense—are missing and Gibbs isn't picking up his phone."

Dennis shook his head at the 'favorite pet' comment. He scanned the room when his eyes fell on something on Gibbs' desk. His phone, broken into pieces.

"Stan," he said, picking the contraption up and holding it for the other man to see. He had to hold his other hand to stop the pieces from falling to the floor.

Stan cursed under his breath, while slamming his phone shut. "Call your damn partner." He stalked over and plopped down at his desk.

Dennis was reminded of a child having a temper tantrum, but he refrained from voicing his thought out loud. Instead he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial number one.

It rang three times before Tony picked up with his usual greeting.

"Where the hell are you?" Dennis yelled.

"With Gibbs, on our way to Quantico. We know who did it."

Dennis's jaw dropped. Corporal Graham and PFC Huntington. He never met either of them, but from what he heard and read, Graham was Sergeant Taylor's best friend. He was one of the only people who believed Jamie was innocent outside of the team. And he killed Taylor's wife and kidnapped his son.

It made Dennis' fight with Tony seem so petty.

"Me and Stan will meet you up there." He started heading for the elevator when Tony's words stopped him.

"Don't. Gibbs wants you and Burley to wait there. We'll call when we know where's he's headed."

Dennis stared down at the phone, confused. "Tony—"

Tony cut him off. "We're gonna try to lure Graham to lead us to find Jamie, but chances are he's not at Quantico. You need to be the cavalry right now. Trust me, Den, this is the smarter choice."

Dennis still didn't like it, but eventually he agreed. He hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye.

This was half the reason Dennis hated working with Gibbs. Tony worked with the older agent more often than not and Dennis always felt out of the loop. Like right now. The two went off without telling him. Without even telling him who the perps were, leaving him feelings like a schmuck.

Maybe if Tony had been with Dennis back in February, he wouldn't have been tortured and raped.

"What's going on?" Stan asked, pulling Dennis out of his mental tirade. He stood up and stood beside Dennis.

"Corporal Graham and PFC Huntington were working together. They killed out hooker, kidnapped Jamie—"

"Hookers," Stan corrected automatically.

Dennis rolled his eyes. "I wasn't counting Julia Chike." She was killed for a different reason than Miranda Hack.

Neither was I. There were seven other victims with Hack."

Dennis stared open-mouthed as Stan told him everything he leaned in Dale City. Dennis felt even more anger brewing inside his chest. Tony left that little detail out.

He leaned against Gibbs' desk, which earned a shocked look from Stan. He ignored it. "Graham and Huntington did all of that. Why? Why go through all of the trouble?"

Stan folded his arms over his chest. "And why let Julia Chike stay on base? In Huntington's house?"

Dennis pondered that for a while. They figured out the who. Now they just needed the why.

"There's no way they came up with this on their own," Stan finally said after five minutes.

Dennis looked back at him. Stan was smiling, causing Dennis to grin. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" He asked.

Stan jumped up. "I think I am."

He started moving towards the interrogation rooms. Dennis jumped down from Gibbs' desk and followed quickly behind. A smug feeling replacing his anger.

He and Stan figured something out before Gibbs and Tony.

**.**

Tony didn't know how he refrained from pounding on Graham's door, but somehow he managed a gentle knock. He only had to wait a few moments before the door opened.

Graham looked less pleased to see him than he did the last time Tony was here. Not that Tony really cared. He didn't need a cold blooded serial killer to like him.

"Detective," Graham sneered. "What can I do for you?"

"Can I come in?"

The two glared at each other for a good minute or so before Graham stepped aside. Tony moved into the room and looked around. The place was quaint, and surprisingly clean for a bachelor pad.

"Did you find Jamie yet?" Graham asked.

Tony took a step closer to the Marine. He wasn't as big as McCane, but he was still pretty damn big. "Sergeant Taylor woke up," he said quietly. "Have you visited him yet?"

Graham tilted his head in confusion. "I just saw him a couple hours ago. Why? Does he remember something about that night?"

Tony had to hand it to him. He didn't sound afraid. He actually sounded like a concerned friend.

He shook his head. "No, I just wanted to make sure you knew he was awake. I wasn't sure if anybody told you yet."

Graham rolled his eyes. "Unless you have something useful to say, I have things to do." He made to move around Tony back towards the door.

"We know that PFC Huntington was involved that night."

Graham stopped, his shoulders tensing.

He swivelled back around and gaped at the cop. "What?"

Tony nodded. "Somebody saw him in Baltimore two nights ago outside of my apartment. But he's supposed to be taking care of his sick grandmother." He rambled on for a while, telling Graham about the theory he and Gibbs had worked out on the drive over. According to this theory, Huntington was in love with Julia Chike, and wanted to scare her out of the game by killing prostitutes that she worked with. She eventually came to a Marine base for help, and Huntington graciously offered to let her stay with him. But Jamie screwed the plan up when he witnessed one of the murders. So Huntington and his partner, McCane, tried to kidnap him. Jamie fought with his father and ran before the two killers could show up. Karen must have recognized their voices, so they killed her to protect their secret.

Graham listened to Tony intently, always keeping his face decidedly neutral. It was a good mask. Never once did he let it falter.

Tony eyed the man sharply. "I know you don't like me because I let Jamie get away. But Huntington is your friend. If I'm gonna make this right, I need to know how to find him."

"What do you need from me?"

"Have you been in contact with Huntington since he took leave?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Did you call him? Did he call you?"

"No. I haven't heard a word from him since he left the base."

Tony cursed under his breath. He rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily.

When he looked back up, he was the perfect picture of professionalism. "Can I get your phone number?"

Graham's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Why?" He drew the word out for ten seconds.

Tony had a hard time hiding his smile. It did sort of sound like a pick-up line. "If he calls, we'll be able to track it."

Graham was about to speak when Tony's cell phone rang. "DiNozzo," he said after he picked up.

And his jaw dropped.

"Yeah, I'm on my way." He hung up.

"Something good?" Graham asked. Again, he sounded more curious than anything.

Tony nodded. "Somebody spotted Jamie and Huntington in Dale City this morning."

That got a reaction. Graham's face paled dramatically. Tony headed for the door in a hurry.

At the door he turned back and stared straight into Graham's eyes. "We're gonna find them." He made sure to show how serious his words were.

Graham nodded.

Tony stormed out the door.

When he clamored back in the car, Gibbs was frowning, unsurprisingly. "He buy anything you just told him?"

Tony shrugged. "I guess we'll find out." He buckled his seatbelt as Gibbs pulled away from the curb.

They pulled out of the main gate and parked to the side, hidden among trees.

Gibbs pulled out his new cell phone. It was a disposable. Tony sill had no idea why they had to stop off and pick up that stupid thing, and Gibbs wasn't sharing.

The older man frowned at the contraption. "I'm almost out of minutes."

"You only bought ten bucks worth." Most of his minutes had been used up calling Tony and telling him they "found" Huntington and Jamie in Dale City.

Gibbs tossed the phone in the backseat with a grunt.

"How do you know he'll leave through this gate?" Tony asked after another few seconds of silence. He desperately wanted to ask about Gibbs' old phone, and he figured talking about the case would stave off that urge. At least temporarily.

"I don't."

"Well, it's the closest one to his house, but if it was me, I'd go to the gate farthest from my house."

"So would I."

Tony's eyebrows scrunched together. "Ok, I'm confused."

Gibbs barely spared him a glance before he reached over and pulled something out of the glove compartment. It was one of those GPS devices used for directions.

Tony was still confused. "So this is so we don't get lost when we lose him?"

This time he expected the smack to the back of his head. He even managed not to groan in pain.

"Give me your cell phone," Gibbs demanded.

Tony handed it over in confusion. It took Gibbs only a second to remember the number he had to dial. Tony almost broke and asked what happened to his cell phone, but Gibbs started talking.

"Abby, he start moving yet?" Tony watched as a little blue dot appeared on the GPS. Realization hit him.

_That son of a bitch._

"Thanks Abs," Gibbs said as he hung up.

Tony grinned like the Cheshire Cat again. He knew there was a reason he liked the agent. "You bastard, you planted a GPS tracker in Graham's car, didn't you?"

Gibbs smirked. "Anticipate DiNozzo. You should never waste any time deciding what to do next."

"What rule number is that?"

"Unwritten."

"Shame. Sounds like a good one."

Gibbs started the car and started heading in the direction that the blue dot was going.

Tony watched the device, trying to figure out which way Graham was headed. After a few seconds, his breath hitched. He recognized that route.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed.

"Yeah."

"Jamie's still in Baltimore."

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**Dun dun dun! Sorry, I have been dying to say that for a while now. Well, like I said before, the next chapter is going to be a lot longer, and a lot of cool stuff happens. Ladies and gentlemen I do believe we have entered the climax of the story. Who else is excited? **

**Bob**


	22. Twenty One

**Guess what! I got my computer back! And he's completely fixed! My hinge is fixed, the viruses are, I didn't lose a single file. And I got everything solved for only a fraction of the cost of what Geek Squad charged me for half the work. I be very excited.**

**And just so you guys know, I wanted to get this chapter up last night, but the website decided it didn't want to work last night, so I had to wait until today. Again, sorry, and especially sorry that I couldn't get it up faster, but I had to write a paper that's due today. But hey! I did my work on time for once! That never happens. I'll shut up now.**

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Twenty-One

Tony still couldn't believe it. Graham was headed back to Baltimore. All this time, he didn't have a single clue where to start looking when he should have been looking close to home.

He mentally cursed his superior. If Carnec wasn't being such a pain in the ass they could have found Jamie by now. At the very least they could have realized he was still in the city.

The drive was relatively quiet, save for the sound of the engine. Gibbs looked about as pissed as Tony felt. Not that Tony was really surprised by that. Gibbs always looked pissed off about something. The younger man was just grateful the anger wasn't directed at him for a change.

Tony kept his eyes glued to the GPS as Gibbs broke every speed limit in the book. The younger man wasn't sure how fast the car was going, only that they were getting closer and closer to Graham every minute. Tony suppressed any crack about Gibbs joining NASCAR for self-preservation.

"You know I think it's safe to slow down, Gibbs. You keep going like this and we're gonna pass Graham soon."

Gibbs grunted but nevertheless slowed down. To seventy.

"I never wanna hear another person complain about my driving again," Tony said through gritted teeth.

Gibbs smirked.

Tony glared. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "One of the perks of my job."

Tony grumbled under his breath. He checked the GPS again to find that Graham entered Baltimore. "I'm calling Dennis."

"Wait," Gibbs snapped. He looked down at the GPS for a while.

The car in front of them stepped on his brakes.

Tony grabbed the 'oh-shit' bar and pushed himself back in the seat as far as he could. "Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" He shut his eyes and prayed to God that he survived the collision.

At the last second, he felt the car swerve into the next lane with an ear shattering honk. When he opened his eyes, he was still alive. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. No cherubs singing for him to enter Heaven, and no monster trying to drag him into Hell.

He finally released the air he didn't realize he was holding. "Watch the damn road!"

Gibbs groaned. He was visibly shaking and his knuckles were completely white. "Make," he ground out through clenched teeth, "the call."

Tony looked down at the GPS again. Graham was still moving. But if Tony was correct, he was moving through a residential area. "What is he doing?" he asked as he hit the first speed dial.

Gibbs breathed again. "Heading towards Jamie."

"You think he's in a house?"

"Would anyone have thought to look in a foreclosed house?"

"No, but why would he keep a kidnapped victim in such a crowded area? Don't most serial killers prefer quiet places off the beaten path?"

"Dahmer didn't."

Tony couldn't deny that. He let a heavy sigh be his response. He held his phone to his ear and waited for Denny to pick up.

**.**

Dennis had to admit that Stan was really good at this. He pitied Darklin like a pro until he had her babbling everything. Graham made one mistake when he killed Julia Chike.

_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned_ kept playing over and over in his head.

After another few minutes, Dennis' cell phone rang. "Morgan," he said into the receiver.

"Graham's heading back to Baltimore," Tony practically shouted at him.

"What?" Dennis asked when he was able to bring the phone back to his ear.

"Jamie Taylor's still in Baltimore. Time to saddle up."

Dennis strode out of the observation room and made his way towards Stan in the interrogation room. "Where's Graham headed?" Dennis' first thought was for an abandoned warehouse or something.

"Looks like a Residential area."

That was a surprise.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm looking at him right now on the GPS."

Stan popped his head around the door. Dennis pointed to the phone glued to his ear.

"Tell me where he is right now."

Tony relayed the neighborhood. Dennis nodded. "We'll be there soon." He hung up.

"We got something?"

Dennis nodded. "I think so." He told Stan everything of his short conversation with Tony as they started walking for the elevator.

"You think Jamie is really in a house?"

Dennis shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe." He slammed his palm into the elevator down button.

The doors opened and the two men stepped inside.

They moved down in awkward silence. Now that the case was solved there was nothing for them to talk about.

That was a lie, there was something.

Dennis flicked the emergency stop switch. The lights dimmed and they came to a halt.

Stan whirled on him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm tired of fighting." He looked away. "I like you and I don't wanna break up."

Stan was quiet for a while. "This can wait—"

"No, it's can't," Dennis cut him off. "I know this whole thing started because of my unrequited love for my partner, and your unrequited love for you boss. But it means more to me than some pathetic rebound fling."

No matter how much Dennis spoke, Stan didn't look convinced. Dennis sighed heavily. "I'm over him," he said. And for the first time ever, he meant it. "He's still my partner," he silently added _for now_, "but that's all. You mean more to me than him."

Stan still didn't say anything. Dennis' heart pounded deafeningly in his chest. After another moment, Stan stepped forward and flicked the emergency switch, bringing the elevator to life again. "We'll talk about this later. When we find Jamie."

Dennis nodded. It was better than nothing.

**.**

Tony stared down at the GPS again. Graham's car was stopped, the blue light from the tracker not moving an inch. When he looked up, he clearly saw the vehicle parked a few feet away. This was where Jamie was. He just wasn't expecting it.

There were at an indoor skating rink. The rink was inside of a park, meaning the only kind of hockey games being played here were little league. It made sense, sort of, but it was still unexpected.

"Why would he risk it?" Gibbs asked, clearly as dumbfounded by this whole turn of events as Tony was.

"Rink is closed during spring," answered Tony as he opened his door and climbed out. He stared up at the building while simultaneously pulling out his cell phone. "You think Jamie's really in there?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

Tony rolled his eyes. He waited for three rings before Denny picked up. "Morgan."

"Hey, how far are you?"

"Still on the highway. We're stuck in rush hour."

Damn, Tony had been afraid of that.

"How long are you going to be?"

"I don't know. Probably an hour. Minimum."

Tony nodded, too frustrated to talk. Even though Dennis couldn't actually see the gesture. He hung up without another word.

When he turned back towards Gibbs, he repeated the bad news.

Gibbs cursed under his breath. He looked like he was going to start shooting things in a minute.

"So, what are we going to do?" Tony asked. He didn't want to wait. It was against his instincts to wait. Every ounce of common sense told him that just by standing out here right now was a bad idea. The longer they waited, the better the chance that Jamie was being killed.

They wanted to make Graham panicked enough to drive out here. And it worked. The downside was that to Graham and Huntington, Jamie was now a liability. By killing him they felt that they'd be able to get away with their crime. After another moment, Gibbs turned and looked him square in the eye. "You afraid to die, Tony?"

The cop didn't like that question one bit. But still, he sighed heavily and said, "If I was, I wouldn't have become a cop."

He almost missed Gibbs' smile when he turned around and started walking for the front door.

Tony followed, pulling his gun off his hip as he did. He kept low to the ground, as did Gibbs in front of him. He checked the area for security cameras. There were none.

He stopped behind Gibbs at the side of the bank of glass doors. His adrenaline was already pumping, keeping his fear at bay.

Last time, he was at the mercy of his captors. They called all the shots. Not this time. This time, Tony and Gibbs were the ones in charge. This was their game.

He just had to remember that.

Gibbs gave his OK and the two headed into the foyer. From what Tony could see, the main lobby was empty as well.

He could also tell how big this damn place was. Trying to find Jamie here was going to take forever with just two people.

"DiNozzo, you check the locker rooms and arena," Gibbs whispered.

Tony nodded. Quickly and quietly he went off towards the back of the main floor. Gibbs went down a hallway to the left. Tony assumed offices were down that way.

He kept his ears open, listening for any sound of people. So far he heard nothing.

First, he checked the girl's locker room. Fortunately it wasn't too big. If he was forced to check the rooms at Ohio State he'd be there all day. Those things were freaking huge.

Just as quietly, he went down every aisle looking for anyone. But the place was completely empty.

After that he headed to the men's room. As soon as he pushed the door ajar, he heard voices.

"What do you mean you weren't in Dale City?" That was Graham's voice. "Somebody saw you there!"

"Emmett, I haven't left Baltimore in a month." Tony didn't recognize the second man. He figured it was Huntington. "You came all the way out here for nothing."

"But Detective DiNozzo said…" he stopped. No doubt he realized he'd been set up. "Son of a—"

Tony cut him off by throwing the door open, gun raised at the ready. "Baltimore PD!"

A bullet slammed into the wall next to him.

He dove behind a row of lockers as more bullets rained down on him. He swore under his breath. This was definitely not how he imagined his first shoot out.

He popped his head and arm around the lockers long enough to pop off a couple of shots. He heard a man grunt and fall to the ground. He breathed a small sigh of relief before he dove for cover again.

The bullets stopped coming. Which was good, things tend to echo in a locker room. Like the footsteps running in the opposite direction.

He jumped into the pathway. Down a few paces was one Marine, laying on his back. His gun was a few feet away from his body.

Tony moved towards him. Always keeping his gun trained on the man on the ground, Huntington, he scooped down and grabbed the gun.

Huntington was still breathing, but his breaths were shallow and uneven. Damn, Tony had hoped he killed the prick.

"Where's Graham?" He demanded.

Huntington just laughed, blood dripping out of his mouth.

"I will shoot you, now tell me where he is."

He kept his eyes fixed on the fading dull ones before him. Huntington kept coughing, leaving a trail of blood down his chin. After a few more seconds, Huntington's breath came rapidly until it finally stopped. Never once did he say a word.

Tony groaned. He pulled his eyes off the man and headed in the direction he heard Graham go earlier. At the back of the room was another door. Tony assumed it led to the rink.

He slammed through the door and almost fell on his backside. The door led to the rink alright. Right onto the ice.

He gripped the wall and slowly made his way through, gun always extended. He scanned the room trying to find Graham, but the place looked empty.

He cursed himself for spending too much time with Huntington. If he just kept moving then he would have been able to follow Graham and he wouldn't be in this predicament. Of course, if he did follow Graham without confirming the kill, then, knowing his luck, Huntington would have lived long enough to follow after him and shoot him dead.

Tony pulled himself along, trying to find a place to get off the ice. He found a doorway and he slowly made his way over.

But as soon as he was about to put his foot through, Graham popped up and punched him in the face.

The blow, his already aching body, and the ice sent him to the ground. His gun flew out of his hand and slid halfway across the ice.

When he looked up, Graham was leaning across the guardrail, smiling. "You should really learn to stay on your toes." He positioned his gun at Tony's head.

Panic hit the cop. He knew he didn't have enough time to pull the gun he took from Huntington. So he did the only thing he knew he could do.

He kicked off the wall and slid across the ice.

Graham kept shooting, but somehow he missed. All the while, Tony dug through his pocket trying to grab the second weapon. By the time he pulled it out and pointed it at the Marine, his head hit the opposite wall. It was too late.

One final shot rang out. Tony waited to feel the pain. He had been shot before, it didn't feel very pleasant. Actually it hurt like hell. But the pain never came. Graham must have missed.

He was about to shoot when he saw Graham slump over the rail and onto the ice. A pool of blood slowly seeping out around his shoulders.

Tony knew even without checking that Graham was dead. When Tony looked up, he saw Gibbs standing there, his gun still smoking.

The two locked eyes for a moment. Gibbs dropped his weapon and called out to him. "What are ya doin' DiNozzo. Job ain't done yet."

The younger man nodded, his body shaking slightly. They still needed to find Jamie.

Tony slowly got to his feet. "Did I ever tell you that you have great timing? I mean, really, it's freaking fantastic." He jumped over the rail, grateful to be on stone floors again. Can't slip on stone floors.

Gibbs met him halfway around the rink and together the two made it back out into the lobby. "Offices were clear," said Gibbs.

"Women's locker room is too."

"What about the men's?"

Tony shrugged. "Huntington's in there, but I don't know about Jamie. I left to go take care of Graham."

"You left Huntington alone in there?" Gibbs practically growled.

"What was I gonna do? Sit there and wait for him to start stinking?"

Gibbs stared at him confused for a second. "He's dead?"

"Last I checked."

The agent nodded. If Tony didn't know better, he'd say that Gibbs was telling him 'good job.' But Tony knew better.

Gibbs led them back to the men's locker room, just to make sure it really was clear. When all they found was Huntington's dead body, they left. They didn't know where else to look.

"The place is clear," Tony groaned. This was bad. Worse than bad. Jamie wasn't here and both their kidnappers were dead.

Gibbs looked around, probably trying to find a solution. "Places like this usually have a basement."

Tony nodded before understanding dawned on him. "For storage."

One quick look between them and they were moving again. It was the same as before, they understood each other, moved with each other. Tony may not always know what Gibbs was thinking, but he knew how to move with him. Sometimes, he felt that he worked better with Gibbs than with Denny. Not that he would ever say it aloud.

They looked everywhere for the basement access. Turned out it was sitting behind the Zamboni. Go figure.

When they made their way downstairs they almost groaned. The basement was huge, and cluttered.

Tony scanned around the room, but he couldn't see anything farther away than ten feet. Boxes and broken equipment blocked the rest of his view.

"Jamie!" Gibbs called. "Jamie Taylor!"

"Jamie it's Detective DiNozzo!"

"Detective!" They heard from somewhere off in the distance.

The two took off in the direction of his voice. They followed a string of "Help's" and "Please's." Every shout made Tony run faster.

He came to a halt when he saw Jamie and Angela Samson sitting twenty feet in front of him with their hands and feet bound. Samson had a gag in her mouth, but Jamie must have pulled his off. It currently sat around his neck.

Even from the distance Tony could see their fear and relief.

Tony took a moment take a deep breath. They found him. After all the pain and all the work, they finally found him. He was going to be fine.

He barely took one step before the bomb exploded. Right underneath Jamie's chair.

* * *

**So, there is only one chapter after this. I thought about making two, but then the chapters would just be too short, so I decided instead to just have one longish chapter instead of two insanely short chapters. Can you believe it? The story's almost done! And I mean, come on, was anybody expecting that ending? **

**Bob**


	23. Twenty Two

**Well, here it is folks, the last chapter before the epilogue. It's a long one too. About ten pages in total. So, I'm gonna be nice and keep this short. Enjoy!**

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Twenty-Two

Stan and Dennis got off the highway as soon as they could and took back roads the rest of the way. Stan drove, going about ninety miles an hour in thirty-five mile limits. Dennis kept his eyes shut and ignored all the cars honking around them.

"How much longer until we get there?" He asked after a sharp right turn.

"About twenty minutes, give or take."

"Can you get there faster?"

"Sure," Stan paused. "If I drive faster, you open your eyes and give me shortcuts to the park."

Dennis groaned. "You really can't do this without me, huh?"

"Will you stop being a woman and open your damn eyes!"

With a groan, Dennis popped his eyes open just in time to see their car swerve into oncoming traffic to avoid a collision. "Where the hell did you learn how to drive?"

"Gibbs."

_Naturally_, Dennis thought. He said a quick prayer and started directing Stan down shortcuts and back alleys.

"You think Jamie's still alive?" Stan asked as they finally pulled into the park. The ice rink was on the other side.

Dennis shrugged. "For Graham and Huntington's sake, he better be."

Stan didn't say anything else. He came to a screeching halt just outside of the rink.

Almost immediately, Dennis saw his car. But as he scanned around the area he saw no sign of his partner or Gibbs. He silently groaned again. The two of them missing could only mean one thing.

"They're already inside." He pushed his door open and exited the car. Almost immediately, he pulled his gun.

"Gibbs can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." Stan said as the two of them made for the main doors.

Dennis refrained from commenting on how similar Tony and Gibbs were.

With practiced ease, they slithered in the building and started checking every place for their teammates and victims. But after checking every office, storage room, locker and row in the rink, all they found were two dead bodies and a few bullet shells.

They made it to the back where the Zamboni was kept before they stopped, confused.

"You think they started chasing on foot?" Stan asked, scratching his head.

Dennis just shrugged. He really didn't know what else to say.

Then they felt the ground shake with an ear-shattering rumble.

"What the hell was that?" Dennis screamed over the sound.

"Sounded like an explosion." Stan looked around the room, his face wild with worry. Dennis rolled his eyes. He almost commented when Stan spoke again. "That came from below us." He pushed his way through a bunch of crap towards a door. Dennis hadn't even seen it there.

Stan practically ripped it off its hinges before he took off down the stairs. Denis was right behind him the entire time.

Before they even reached the bottom, dust and smoke slammed into their faces. Stan hesitated only a second before he jumped off the stairs entirely.

Dennis was completely shocked when his feet found solid ground again. Half the room was destroyed, and smoke was thicker down here. He saw flames at random places. There was no solid fire, but with the amount of wood and cardboard, it was only a matter of time before the whole place was engulfed in flames.

His heart clenched. The only thing racing through his mind was that Tony was probably in there.

He darted forward as fear consumed his entire body. In his mind, the only thought he could form was '_Please God, don't let him be dead.'_ He heard Stan call after him but he couldn't make out the words. He just kept moving forwards toward the center of the explosion.

"DiNozzo!"

Dennis stopped. That was Gibbs' voice. And he sounded panicked. And in pain.

"Tony answer me!"

With a new destination, Dennis started moving towards Gibbs' voice. He kept a hand over his mouth to stop from breathing in all of the smoke, but even still, some of it soaked into his lungs. All the while, Gibbs kept calling out for Tony. The more the agent called, the more frantic Dennis got.

_Why isn't Tony answering?_

He finally spotted a grey head with a bad hair cut matted with blood. He slowed down and crouched low. Gibbs looked a little shaken, a few injuries, but otherwise fine.

"Where's Tony?" Dennis yelled. "What the hell did you do to him?"

"Boss!" Stan kneeled down next to Gibbs. "Boss are you alright?"

"DiNozzo," he said again.

"Where is he?"

But Gibbs wasn't looking at either of them. He kept staring straight ahead. He tried to move forward, but his body was too beaten up.

Dennis looked ahead. He missed it before, but he saw a bloody hand resting a few inches away from a charred up head and torso.

He crawled over and pushed the flat wood off of Tony. Immediately, Dennis felt a wave of relief when he saw Tony breathing. He was still alive.

"Tony," he breathed. Gently, he shook the other man's shoulder. "Tony wake up."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gibbs and Stan slowly climb to their feet. "Boss, we gotta get you outta here," Stan said, keeping a hand of Gibbs' shoulder to support him.

Gibbs waved him off. "Call an ambulance," he started. "And Ducky." He was staring at the torso as he said that.

Tony groaned lightly. Dennis breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed his hand. Then he turned back to the remains. The sigh of relief turned to one of regret. "That's Jamie Taylor, isn't it?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Could be. Could be Angela Samson."

Stan pulled out his cell phone to start making those phone calls as Dennis tried to pull Tony to his feet.

**.**

Tony sat in the back of an ambulance with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, staring straight ahead without really seeing anything. He was too lost in thought.

They were so close. Jamie was right there. Tony kept replaying everything, trying to figure out where he went wrong. Did he hit a trip wire? Was there a timer? What happened?

Someone moved to stand in front of him. He knew it was a male, but that didn't narrow anything down. The scene before him was a total sausage fest. He couldn't see a single woman. For once, it didn't matter. He was too tired to flirt.

Gibbs kneeled down in front of him, probably realizing that Tony wasn't going to look up into his face. "Tony," he started quietly. Instead of finishing, he sighed heavily.

"You talk to the bomb squad?" Tony asked, trying desperately to avoid the conversation. He wasn't sure how long it had been since Denny dragged him out of the ice rink, but there were ambulances around, fire trucks and the standard gawkers. He had the oxygen mask thrust into his face that he was only allowed to move if he spoke. A part of him wanted to know why Gibbs didn't have one. But he didn't ask.

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. Bomb was attached to a timer. They always planned to kill Jamie. There was nothing we could do."

Tony didn't say anything. But he kept thinking thater there was a lot they could have done. They could have gotten here sooner. They could have realized that Graham was dirty faster. He could have let Huntington live so he could have disarmed the bomb.

He sighed heavily, wiping a hand over his soot covered face. It was a pain in the ass with the mask in the way. He pulled it away again. "One thing still doesn't add up, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded again. "Why were Graham and Huntington going after prostitutes?"

"Just to let a prostitute stay with 'em."

Stan stepped forward. He looked just as guilty as Tony felt. He was also covered in soot, but he wasn't as bruised and battered as Gibbs and Tony. He stood with his hands on his hips and his chest was puffed out. "Well, actually, boss, we know that too."

**.**

The EMTs tried to convince Jethro to go the hospital, but he waved off the concerns. He was standing far enough away from the blast to not get seriously injured. He hurt like hell, but he'd survived worse. And last he checked, DiNozzo was down in Autopsy getting Ducky to take care of his injuries. He almost pulled his weapon when the EMTs tried to force him into the ambulance. At that point, Ducky stepped forward and reluctantly agreed to treat the young man's injuries.

So, once again, Jethro found himself in an interrogation room. His anger was boiling again, and that was the only thing staving off the pain. Jamie was dead. An innocent boy was killed for no logical reason. Somebody was going to pay.

He sat down across from Corporal Pam Darklin for hopefully the last time. After this, he never wanted to see his woman again.

"Jamie Taylor is dead," he said. He didn't waste any time. As soon as his ass hit the seat, he told her the grim news.

Darklin reacted in shock. Her mouth fell open and her face paled. Obviously that wasn't part of the original plan.

"What?" She said after a moment. "How? Why?"

"Huntington and Graham blew him up." He left out how the explosion nearly killed him and DiNozzo. For now.

"Oh my god." She started shaking again.

"You told Graham and Huntington to kill those prostitutes. To try and scare your friend out of the business."

She looked up, appalled. "What? No!"

"You thought that if she was afraid for her life, she'd leave the game and settle down like you did."

"I told Agent Burley I didn't have anything to do with this. They did this to help me, not because I asked them to."

Jethro wasn't sure how he kept from shaking this woman down to her very core, but somehow he did. "That night at the Taylor residence, you showed up to see if they got rid of Jamie like they were supposed to. But when you got there, Jamie was gone, Phil was unconscious and Karen was dead. And you found out that Jamie got away before Graham and Huntington even showed up. So you came up with this new plan to find him before he could talk. Anybody he did tell, you had killed. He talked to a social worker from Baltimore, so you ran her car off the road. Corporal McCane hired a Private Investigator to find him. And Huntington shot him when he got close enough. You were afraid that if Julia found out you were the one who killed her friends, she'd sell you out to the authorities, and all of you would rot away in prison for the rest of your pathetic lives."

"Julia was my best friend!"

"But then she did find out the truth about Jamie. Maybe even about all of her dead friends. That's why she talked to us. Jamie Taylor was the only one who knew who the killers were. She told us that he was innocent to give him some credibility. Agent Burley told you that she had been talking to us, so you called Graham and told him to take care of it. You didn't know he was going to kill her, Julia wasn't supposed to die, was she? That's why you changed your story to sell out Graham today. You wanted to avenge your friend.

"Huntington claimed that he was taking leave to take care of his sick grandmother after he found out Marcus Tatum located Jamie. After he killed him, he picked up the trail. And when he was finally going to grab Jamie, Detective DiNozzo came home and brought Jamie into the precinct. So you convinced Angela Samson, Julia's Madame to pose as a social worker to get him back. You told her that Jamie was the one responsible for the death of her girls, and she wanted revenge." At this point, Jethro was just speculating. He knew that Angela Samson was a victim, considering that she was tied up and killed along with Jamie. But he wasn't one hundred percent sure how they managed to convince her to go along with their scheme. This seemed like the most likely scenario.

She shook her head firmly. "No."

"Except Graham and Huntington are both dead." Again she paled. "And you're on the hook for everything. Now I don't care if you confess or not. I got everything I need to convict you."

He watched her face closely. Slowly the shocked, scared mask that she was wearing for so long faded into cold determination. She was giving up. But she wasn't going down without a fight.

Jethro had to admit she was a hell of an actress. She should have been a conman, or a spy. She was able to convince two Marines to become serial killers and she had everybody here convinced that she was innocent. Even Jethro had been fooled.

She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. "I want a deal."

"Hell no." Jethro only dealed in extreme circumstances. Corporal Darklin had nothing to offer him.

"You got most of the finer details, Gibbs. But you're forgetting a chief character. I wanted to get Julia off the streets, this is true. But it was his idea to kill those whores. Graham and Huntington went along with the plan for some cash and free sex. But this bastard did it because he liked it. He was the one who killed those whores. He posed them." She no longer sounded scared for her life. She sounded like the cold blooded killer that she was. "And I am the only one left alive who knows who he is."

Damn. That was a pretty good reason. "Give me a name."

"Give me a deal and I'll give you a name."

Jethro thought about that for a while. On the one hand, he wanted this woman to suffer for all the pain she caused. She was responsible for the death of at least fourteen innocent people. But on the other hand he couldn't sit back and not arrest the actual murderer. "I'll ask that they go easy on you."

She chuckled. "You gotta do better than that, Agent Gibbs."

"That's all you're gonna get!"

She chuckled again. Then she had the audacity to zip her lips up.

Jethro sighed heavily. He had it. He couldn't hold his temper in any longer. He looked behind him at the security cameras just as the little red light flicked off.

He smiled. He was going to have to give Stan a raise.

Jethro stood up and circled the table. Darklin looked at him with that smug little smile on her face.

Jethro kicked her chair out, grabbed her collar and heaved her to her feet. He slammed Darklin against the wall and crowded her small frame. The smug grin was gone. In its place was raw fear.

"You are a pathetic excuse for a Marine and if you think for a second that I'm afraid to hit you because you're a woman, you got another thing coming!" Woman or not she was still dangerous. And still a killer. And Jethro wasn't going to hold back because she thought she could get away with it. "Now you tell me who he is!"

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you!"

Too easy.

**.**

Tony and Gibbs walked into the room to see Sergeant Taylor fast asleep. Tony slowly limped closer. His body was hating him. Every ounce of him was in pain. First there was the beating by McCane, then _three_ fights with Denny, followed by an explosion. When this was all over, he was taking a week off of work to recuperate.

They stood on either side of the sleeping man's bed. Tony looked into Gibbs' injured face. The old bastard still looked better than Tony did. Gibbs carefully tapped Taylor's forearm.

The Marine jerked and blinked sleep filled eyes up at them. "Agent Gibbs?" Taylor asked through a yawn. "What happened, did you find Jamie?"

Tony felt another pang of guilt coarse through him as Gibbs answered. "I'm sorry, your son is dead."

He watched as an array of emotions flitted across Taylor's face. First shock, then confusion, then anger. He screamed out, his head falling back against his pillow as tears fell down his cheeks. Tony took a step back and turned his head away. "Why? Who the hell would," he choked up another sob. "You tell me you caught the son of a bitch who did this."

Gibbs nodded. "Two are dead."

Taylor breathed a small sigh of relief. "Good, I hope they suffered."

"And I'm looking at the other one."

Taylor's head snapped up. His anger grew. The tears dried up and he glared at the federal agent. "Are you insinuating that I had anything to do with this?"

"Your son found out about your little scheme," Tony said. He tried to keep his voice neutral and his face blank. He wasn't sure how well he succeeded. As far as he was concerned, Taylor had killed his own son. "You had no intention of sending him away to Military school. Graham was supposed to get rid of him that night."

"How dare you!"

"He wasn't supposed to die, though," Gibbs interrupted. "Was he?"

Taylor looked between the two of them. "I don't know what you two are talking about. How could you possibly think I had anything to do with my son's death? I want you to leave. Now!"

Gibbs slammed his hands on the bed and got into Taylor's face. Normally, Tony would have tried to reel the man in, but not this time. Hell, Gibbs could have shoved a pillow over Taylor's face and all Tony would do was guard the door. "Graham murdered your son. He's dead because you wanted to protect a secret. Well the secret's out. We know about everything. The women you viciously butchered."

Taylor looked at him in complete shock for a while. He evidently didn't know what to say. After another minute, he started crying again. His hand went to cover his mouth and he fell back on his pillows. "He wasn't supposed to die. He was never, none of this was supposed to happen."

"What was Graham supposed to do with Jamie?" Tony moved closer. He needed to know what was going on with this man. How he could have hatched this plan. "Ask him really nicely not to blab to NCIS?"

"We just wanted to talk to him. We just wanted him to understand!"

Tony smiled evilly at him. "Knock some sense into him?"

"What could he possibly need to understand?" Gibbs asked. "That his father's a scumbag?"

Taylor looked at them, insulted. "It was an accident. It was never supposed to go down like that."

"Which part? Jamie's abduction, or the women that you murdered in Dale City?"

Taylor surged forward, bringing his face within inches of the agent. "Those weren't women. They were the scum of the earth. They deserved to die!"

Tony felt nausea rise up his esophagus. He pulled out his handcuffs and latched one cuff around Taylor's left wrist and the other around the bed rail. "Sergeant Taylor," Gibbs started, keeping his eyes trained on the Marine's face. "You are under arrest for murder."

"I was doing a service, Agent Gibbs," Taylor growled while Gibbs continued to read him his rights. "Those whores deserved to die!" Tony stepped back and limped out of the room as Gibbs finished up. Taylor screaming after them the entire time.

Gibbs turned to the MTs standing by the door. "Nobody goes in, and he doesn't leave. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

Gibbs didn't spare them another look as he started down the hallway. He kept his pace slow for a change, probably realizing that Tony couldn't move that fast right now. "Why is it that every time I work with you, I end up with a leg injury?" He meant it as a joke, but after the words left his mouth, he realized how they sounded.

Gibbs wheeled on him. Tony expected to see anger, or something equally hard from the agent. But for once, Gibbs' eyes were soft. They were holding so much pain that Tony couldn't look directly in them. Not while simultaneously keeping his strength up.

"I am sorry, Tony."

That was a shock. Tony shook his head. "For what?"

"For what happened with Kitty. I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

"Whatever happened to apologies being a sign of weakness?"

"Sometimes they're important."

Tony sighed heavily. "I never blamed you, Gibbs. I appreciate everything you did for me."

Gibbs sighed heavily. "This wasn't your fault. There wasn't anything that we could have done to save Jamie. He was dead four months ago."

Tony turned his eyes away. "I feel like I should have done more."

"You did everything that you could have."

When Tony looked back up to meet Gibbs' blue eyes, his were full of tears. "Do you feel that way about the butcher shop?"

Silence was his answer.

Gibbs nodded and swallowed a lump in his throat. Then he turned and walked away. For the first time in three days, Tony didn't follow him.

* * *

**Next is the epilogue! Now, everybody, be honest: who expected that? Some of you might have guessed Darklin, but did you guess Taylor? **

**Bob**


	24. Epilogue

**Well it's finally here folks! Topsy Turvy is officially complete! And as always, there will not be an author's note at the end of this chapter. But just so everybody is clear, no this is not the last story in the series, there will most likely be three after this. HOWEVER, I want everybody to know that I will be taking a sabbatical to participate in NaNoWriMo, so it might be a while before you all hear from me again. **

**And with that, I will say adieu, and I will see you all... in a month!**

**Bob**

**

* * *

**

Epilogue

Jethro had to head back to the office for a few hours to write up his reports and check on Stan's report. But when he got in, the younger man wasn't around. A part of him wanted to call Stan and tell him to get his ass back here, but he just felt too drained to do anything.

He was still angry. This whole time, he saw Phil Taylor as a victim, and he was worse than Graham and Huntington, hell even Darklin, put together. He enjoyed murdering those women.

He stood in the middle of the squad room for a good five minutes, just looking around at the empty space. He should have enjoyed the quiet, it so rarely happened around here, and in the last few days there was never a moment to just relax. The bull pen was always moving, always buzzing. His mind was always working. Now there was nothing left to do but reports. The worst part of any investigator's job.

With a heavy sigh, he turned from his desk and made for the elevator. It took him down to the basement. He strode through the automatic doors and stopped in front of one of the autopsy tables.

Stan was already there, staring down at the remains.

These ones were smaller than the other ones. This was Jamie Taylor.

As much as he hated to admit it, DiNozzo was right. Logically, he knew that it wasn't their fault. They couldn't have seen this coming. But he couldn't stop blaming himself. He must have replayed the day twenty times, and every time, he kept trying to find a way to save Jamie. Maybe if he and DiNozzo never split up. But the only thing that would have done is kill them too.

Maybe if they brought Stan and Morgan with them when they headed to Quantico. Maybe that would have changed the events of today.

"This shouldn't have had to happen," Stan said quietly, never taking his eyes off of Jamie.

Jethro nodded. "I know."

**.**

"Aw, poor baby!" Sasha cooed as she gently touched Tony's face.

He cringed, but at the same time tried to look strong and tough. "It feels worse than it looks."

"It looks like you just got blown up."

Tony thought about that for a second. "Ok, so it looks the same as it feels."

She giggled.

Sasha was the mail girl. Every day, she came and openly flirted with Tony. He never complained. She was beautiful with an hour glass shape, vivid green eyes that contrasted to her mocha skin. Tony knew she wanted him, but the last few months he neglected his flirting. He had a lot of time to catch up on.

"You know," she started, leaning forward, smiling. "If you need someone to take care of you, I have room at my place."

Tony leaned back, his smile brightening. "Oh? You have a spare room?"

"No."

_Wow_. Normally, Sasha wasn't that forward. He knew that she liked him, but she never outright solicited him before. And let's face it, he could use it.

He chuckled. "I may take you up on that."

Captain Carnec stepped behind her, scowling. Sasha straightened up and left to deliver the rest of the mail.

Tony smiled maliciously at his boss. He took the last two days off to recuperate, but his anger hadn't faded. If anything, it got worse. And he still blamed Carnec. "Captain," he seethed.

"Not anymore," came Carnec's gruff reply. He dropped a letter on Tony's desk. It had the Baltimore Police Commissioner's official seal on it. "I've been told to take an early retirement."

Tony leaned forward and stared at the letter, dumbstruck. At Carnec's age, an early retirement was just a polite way to fire you.

He hadn't expected this. He wasn't thrilled with his boss, but he wasn't a rat. He had plenty to give to the Commissioner, but he hadn't said anything.

"Is this how you treat people who take care of you? Glad to see that loyalty is important to you."

"Captain, I didn't—"

Carnec cut him off. "Save it. I don't have to listen to your aggravating voice anymore. Good luck finding somebody else to put up with you." The man left before Tony could say anything else.

Denny and Detective Halloran approached him. They didn't look angry, which was definitely a shock. "I didn't rat him out to the commissioner."

Halloran nodded. "I know. I did."

Tony blinked. Surely he heard wrong. "What?"

"A kid died because of Carnec's pride. He screwed up last week, and he had no right to blame you for that. I couldn't let him get away with it."

Tony took a second to absorb all that was said. He was grateful, to be sure. Halloran had worked with Carnec longer than he worked with Tony, but he took a rookie's side over his captain. "You know the new captain isn't going to trust you, right?" Trust and loyalty are important things for cops. If Halloran was willing to complain about a captain he worked with as long as Carnec, what would the new guy think of him?

But Halloran had the nerve to laugh. "I wouldn't worry too much about that." He walked back over to his desk and picked up the cardboard box on top of it. Tony hadn't even seen it there.

Tony slowly stood up; his body still an aching mess. Apparently two days wasn't long enough to recuperate from a beating and an explosion. Go figure.

Did Halloran get fired too? Was he transferring? Did Tony screw up his life as well?

"And from now on," Halloran called for everyone to hear, "I expect you to refer to me as Sergeant Halloran!" And then he disappeared into Carnec's old office.

Tony was stunned, to say the least. Out of all possible outcomes that was the one he least expected to happen.

Denny turned to him with a grin. "For the record, Halloran isn't the only one who reported Carnec. The entire squad did."

Tony smiled. He thought it was kind of ironic. He was the only one who didn't make a complaint, but he was the one who got sole blame.

He turned to his partner, the smile gone. There was still something they needed to talk about. "I don't wanna transfer."

Denny's smile fell.

Tony grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to a more secluded place in the hallway. He took a deep breath before he started. "I don't want to get a new partner. I don't want to change cities, or start working for a federal agency. Ok, look, I know that I screwed up, and I am so sorry."

Denny sighed heavily. "Why Lea? Why my sister?"

Tony's breath hitched. "Because I trust her. Den, for three months," he paused, not wanting to finish his sentence, but knowing that he had to, "I was afraid. And shamed. I let a _girl_ take advantage of me and I did a lot of things because… I didn't feel like a man anymore." He paused. It was strange, but everything he thought he should have felt when he admitted his rape, he was feeling now. He felt relief that he could finally let it go.

Damn it, Gibbs was right. He did need to talk about it.

"I needed somebody that I could trust to help me get my life back." He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't know what else to do. So, can we," he stopped to clear the lump from his throat, "Please, just work together again?"

Denny sighed heavily. Tony knew he reacted to his words, he just couldn't be sure if it was a positive or negative reaction. "I'm gay," Denny finally blurted out.

Tony blinked. He wasn't expecting that. "I know."

It was Denny's turn to blink. "You know? Since when?"

"I've always known." It wasn't something he consciously thought about, but he still had a hunch. Denny never let him meet any of his 'girlfriends,' and he barely paid any attention to Sasha, and she was gorgeous.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"Because I wanted you to be able to tell me, not have me say it for you!"

Denny blinked again. "It doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it? Den, you're like a brother to me, that doesn't change just because you're gay. I actually think it's a good thing."

"You do?"

"Yeah," Tony smiled, "cuts down on the competition."

Denny was silent, still stunned for a second. Tony was a little afraid that he said something wrong. Finally, Denny burst out laughing. "Only you, Tony."

Tony put his hands in his pockets and gave his partner his best impression of a remorseful puppy. Nobody could ever stay mad at a remorseful puppy. "Does that mean I'm forgiven?" He batted his long eyelashes.

Denny stopped laughing. He met Tony's wide, sad eyes and sighed heavily. Tony didn't take that as a good sign. "I have a boyfriend."

That confused the hell out of the younger cop. "Ok."

"It's Stan Burley."

Once again, Tony blinked. Then he blinked again. His brain mushed out and the only thing he was capable of doing was blink. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Burley?"

Denny glared. It was impressive, but not nearly as scary as Gibbs'. "That a problem?"

Tony's brain was still mush. "Burley?"

Denny rolled his eyes. Then he walked back into the squad room. After about three seconds, Tony followed.

"Stan Burley."

Denny plopped down at his desk. "Did I just break your brain or something?" He asked exasperatedly.

Tony sat down, much slower. "Mush."

With another chuckle, Denny picked up his phone. At Tony's confused look he said, "I'm calling the Vatican. I just witnessed a miracle.

That got Tony's brain to reform enough to scrunch up a piece of paper and chuck it at his partner.

Denny laughed harder. "You know that could have been important." He unscrunched the paper and stared at it. It was an envelope.

Tony blanched. He could think of only one thing that letter could be. Another job offer from Fornell.

Denny stared at the return address for a full minute. Tony waited with bated breath. He wanted the chance to fix things with his partner. He didn't want to work for the FBI. This was make or break time, and he knew it.

Finally, Denny rescrunched the envelope. "I was wrong. It's just junk." He tossed it in the trash bin.

Tony at last released his breath, a smile already forming. Denny was going to give him a chance.

Halloran came out of his new office. "DiNozzo! Morgan! Got a case for ya!" He handed Tony a small slip of paper before he went back and sat down.

Tony turned to his partner. "He got used to his new role way too fast."

Denny was staring at the door. "Definitely."

With a groan, Tony stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"You gonna be alright to work a case?"

Tony thought about that for a second as he limped forward. Then he threw his arm around Denny's shoulders. "Now that you mention it, I may need you to support me down to the car." He batted his eyelashes again.

Denny chuckled and ducked out from under his arm. "Yeah, you're fine."

Tony lightly smacked him in the back of the head. Denny whirled on him, completely stunned. "What the hell was that?"

That was a good question. Apparently, the younger cop spent way too much time around Gibbs. But instead of voicing that, he just shrugged. "You had it coming." He kept limping for the door.

After a second, Denny stepped forward. He picked up Tony's arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. Tony's smile widened as he playfully punched his partner in the ribs. They headed for the elevators to go work yet another case.


End file.
